I Hate Wonder Woman
by CleCleisCool
Summary: Fang is not looking forward to getting a new exchange student, Max. In fact, when Max arrives, Fang hates her even more, because she is being a lil-miss-perfect. But what happens when he learns that perfect isn't so perfect? Better than summary! Plz R&R!
1. Chapter 1  British Invasion

Chapter 1 of I Hate Wonder Woman

(A/N: sorry if there's a load of Brit slang and it sounds like rubbish.:) I just love using it, and there's some I use anyways all the time like 'the loo' or 'rubbish' or 'bloody' or 'couch'. Yes couch is British. I'm part Brit and I've been there and o read some British books, and I'd recommend looking up some of the slang; it's rather funny, such as 'bollox'. So yes, a lot o' Brit slang for now. Also, I just got back from late night Japanese candy thing with my brother. Aka: I went into his room and we ate some of his Japanese candy that a friend gave him. He shared a lot to, God Bless His Soul. It was the dogs bollox! Look it up. And also, sorry if Fang is a wee bit out of character in his anger in the first part, but I needed to show just how much he hated the idea of Max coming. READ AND REVIEW, please!)

FANG POV

"Gosh, Mom!" I cried in total, utter annoyance. "Why the hell are you doing this?"

"Macy did it and she said it was fun." My mom replied smally.

"So you're letting a complete stranger, possibly a terrorist, live with us?" I groaned. This sucked. This really sucked. Out of all the stupid charity or 'world experience' things my mom could have done this time, she HAD to choose this one.

"Max is not a terrorist!" My sister Angel cried defensively.

"Yeah, Fang, don't be such a you-know-what. Do they even have terrorists where she's from?" Shouted Nudge, my only non-biological sibling.

"The thing has a name?" I half screamed in exasperation.

"Nudge, they probably have terrorists everywhere. Even England. And Nicholas," My mom started, and I could tell that she was getting mad because she called me Nicholas instead of Fang. "Max is not a thing. She is an exchange student. You hardly ever speak, so shut up. This talk is over."

This sucked. If you hadn't picked it up, we were getting an exchange student. A flipping exchange student. For a whole nine months. (Next Monday, January third, until September 13th. And she would graduate here. Blec.) I didn't get why mom had applied for one anyways; this house was FULL. We had six people already here! There was mom, me, my fraternal (is that the right word?) twin, James or Iggy, there was my sister, Nudge a.k.a. Monique and Zeyphr (what was mom thinking?) who you could call Gazzy, there's a reason and finally Angel. Our ages are as follows, in order, so remember them well. Mom: ? Iggy and I: 17. Nudge: 14 Gazzy:11 (and a half, as I am forced to add) Angel:9. I mentioned that Nudge was the only non-biological sibling, and it's true. When she was two and Iggy and I were five, her mother, an old friend of my mom's, and her husband died, leaving Nudge an orphan. Since she had no one to go to, my mother, being the person she is, just had to take her in. Nudge is obviously adopted, as she looks nothing like us. We all look quite alike in our family. Blue eyes, blonde hair, fair skin. Except for me. Even though we share the same facial features, I took more after our mother, with black hair, olive skin and incredibly dark blue eyes. The eyes are my only original trait. I have no idea where they came from. Back to Nudge, who has mocha skin, kind of curly brown hair and brown eyes. When she was eleven, she just asked my mom, "Mom, I know I am adopted. Where am I from?" Just like that. Anyways, we told her from South Africa, which is part true. Nudge originally from South Africa, but she lived in a small Caribbean island that I can almost guarantee you've never heard of, called Nevis, part if St. Kitts and Nevis. It's really nice, from what I remember of it. I went there only once when I was five, to go get Nudge. I don't really know why we don't tell her about Nevis, but I don't bring it up.

I stormed up to Iggy's room, which was now my room, because I had to give it up for -you guessed it, the new exchange student, whose name I didn't completely know. All I knew was that her name was Max, and yes, I said HER. This thing wasn't even here yet, and I already hated her. Oh well, I better enjoy my last five days before the British Invasion.

...

...

The five days before SHE came were frustrating. As said before, I had to move out of my room. My lovely, Fang-like room, with its black walls and black and white bedding, with band posters on the wall and my laptop and everything. Even my secret stash of...ahem, stuffed animals. And Iggy wasn't all too happy about it. We both had to share a room, and I had to leave mine because, well, to be blunt, an explosion was less likely to happen whilst moving my stuff rather than Iggy's. Why must we worry about that? Sadly, because I live with two pyromaniacs, Iggy and Gazzy. I swear, you could lock those two in a padded room with nothing but a teabag, a lemon and a piece of yarn and I bet they could make something explode. Anyways, Iggy's walls were all green, which wasn't as bad a Angel's room (It looked like a Pepto Bismol factory exploded in it. Sickening, I know.) but still lacked the comfort of my black walls, so I covered my half of the room with band posters and sketches and online pictures. Anything to hide the green, much to Iggy's disdain.

Mom promised me that I could have the guest room that she was building in the basement that wasn't going to be completed until March. Grr. This all stunk. Everything was going fine until I learned about this stupid broad moving in. And she probably wasn't even pretty. She probably was pasty skinned with mousy, permed brown hair and giant front teeth. And she probably was a huge nerd who would spend all her time studying. Either that or she was totally butch. I mean, what girl goes by the name of Max? I probably would have much less of a problem she was from somewhere where the girls were smoking, like Colombia or Switzerland. And now I sounded like Iggy.

All too soon, it was Judgement Day.

"Fang, there's an emergency at the clinic." My mom explained. She's a veterinarian at a animal clinic, so sometimes there are emergencies and she has to rush in like an ER surgeon. I sent her a look telling her to get to the point. She continued. "Anyways, I'm going to be there for an hour and half, so I'll be back in time for dinner. I need you to pick up Max from the airport. Her plane arrives in half an hour, but she'll be at least that long getting out too, so you don't need to leave for forty or so minutes."

I groaned loudly. "Why do I have to pick up this stupid euro trash monster!" Okay, usually I wasn't this immature, but I was really riled up about having a random foreign chick living with us.

My mom looked fully appalled, and gave me a glare. It wasn't as good as my all powerful death glare, but it was still cold. "I cannot believe you! Your behaviour has been so sordid the past few days. You better stop it right this instant or you will have no cookies for three whole weeks! And do you even know what euro trash is?"

"Uh... No." I muttered regrettably. And the cookie punishment may sound beyond silly, but it is the most effective and used form of discipline in our house. My mom made the best cookies you would ever eat. It was the type of thing that you could sell your soul for. As soon as one of those chocolate chip circles of heaven entered your mouth all your problems momentarily melted away. The best part about it? Mom made two double batches a week. Yes, twice a week, that's 54 delicious discs of nirvana or 9 for each of us, twice a week, making 18 cookies a week. Luckily we didn't get fat, but even if we did, it would be worth it for each bite, a perfectly balanced mix of crunchy cornflakes cereal (don't tell anyone, it's one of her secrets), sweet sugar, semi-sweet chocolate and the hints of salt and vanilla. And yet another reason to hate Max; she ruined our cookie ratio, our perfect cookie ratio.

No, there was no way in h-e-double-french-fries that I would let me get my cookies taken away, so I shut up and nodded.

"Glad to see you conform, Sweetie." Mom joked as she rushed out the door.

Well this was just great. Really dandy. Super.

Oh yes, I was definitely looking forward to this. If you couldn't practically feel the sarcasm there crushing your brain, stop reading now, because there is no hope for anyone who didn't notice the sarcasm. Really. Go practice flipping hamburgers, for (s) he who cannot see sarcasm is doomed. DOOMED, I SAY!

Twenty minutes later, I was begrudgingly making my way to my black (of course) 1977 Chevy Impala, considering not picking her up and saying she never arrived. I ran my fingers against the car's paint, trying to ignore more bad thoughts. Sweet car, I think. I even got the engine changed to be more energy efficient. Well, it's Iggy's too. Suddenly I heard a ringing noise from inside the house, our phone.

"Hello?" I spat into phone, in a foul mood.

"'Allo!" Came a female voice that seemed to have a... British accent. Let the doom begin. "Is this the Martinez residence?"

"Yes." I grunted into the phone, wanting to, more than anything, slam the evil phone into its cradle. Instead, I counted the amount of floorboards on the hardwood floors in our front hallway.

"This is Max. The exchange student?" She said, more asking than stating, as if she had flown across the world by mistake. Which I wish would have happened.

"I can tell by your increasingly annoying accent." I said flatly.

"I'm going to ignore that. Any roads, I was going to inform you that I'll be taking a cab to your house, instead and I need your address."

I considered the possibility of giving her a fake Address and having her dumped at some random house in Calgary, but my mom would find out and I would probably never have a cookie again, so I quickly told her my address and hung up.

I paced around the front hall angrily. I did not want her here at all. Not one iota. And I wanted her to know that. In fact, I was going to make it painfully obvious that I didn't want her here. I was going to make her time here suck so that she didn't want to come back!

I calmed myself down. 'Fang,' I told myself. 'This isn't like you. Calm down. Just because you don't want her here doesn't mean you have to go out of your way to make her miserable.' Which was right. I didn't have to go out of my way to do that. That was something someone else might do, not me.

All of a sudden, I heard a car pull up. Crap! I hadn't asked when she'd arrive. That couldn't be her, could it? I looked at the clock. An hour had passed, so it was most likely her. I walked up to the front door and heard a voice.

"Thanks for helping with my bags!" She said, and then became slightly quieter. "I haven't been to Canada in yonks. Never been here in particular, but Calgary seems really nice."

I whipped open the door only seconds before she rang the bell. In fact, she stood there for a second with her index finger hovering over the bell before the surprise registered and she jumped slightly. "Gor blimey! You scared me! I'm Max, the exchange student!" She stuck out her hand and I glared at it, then her.

She wasn't butt ugly as expected. In fact, I couldn't admit it to myself, but she was rather really attractive. She had mid-back length slightly wavy blonde/brown hair, more on the brown side, but not mousy brown that was sun-streaked (and possible chemically, as for the one blue highlight.). She had really beautiful brown doe eyes and was tall and thin but not too thin. And when I say tall I mean it. Max was at least 5'8" but was probably more like 5'9". I myself was 5'11" 6' feet, and I was only a few inches taller than her. Mox or Max-Or-Whatever-I-Don't-Care was wearing an interesting outfit. Underneath her dark grey bomber jacket with the fur lined hood was navy tee that went down to mid-thigh with an image of a cartoon character I didn't know on it. She also had on a pair of very dark grey ripped skinny jeans and get this- black combat boots. She didn't really look Goth, though. Or butch or nerdy like I thought, just really individual. And grudgingly, I had to admit that I approved of her outfit.

"I know this is the right house, I have the address, so are you going to stare all day or say something?" She snapped. Her accent sounded so funny but so cute.

Ignore that I ever said that.

I glared at her again, but all of a sudden I heard the noise of a stampede. Four people -Angel, Gazzy, Nudge and Iggy, of course- all thumped down the stairs at once and ran to the door, roughly shoving me out of the way.

"Are you Max?" "Welcome!" "Come on in; we've been waiting all week." and "Ignore Fang, he's a bit of an arse." were all said at the same time, and I had no idea of who said what. In a blur of motion though, Max's large backpack and suitcase were sitting by the front door and Max was sitting on the sofa, about to be hit with a bombardment of questions from my family.

"How was the flight?" "You're Max?" "Is Max short for Maxine?" "How's England?" "Do you have an accent?" "Do you like the house?" "Do you have a boyfriend?" Once again, I had no idea on who said what, except that Iggy had asked about the boyfriend thing. That definitely was an Iggy thing to do.

Max had on a nervous grin and looked slightly uncomfortable. I knew that I should have helped her, but I kind of liked seeing her squirm. Let's just say that when I don't like someone, I have a mild sadist side. "Uhhh..." Max started. Just at that moment, my mom burst in the door.

"Is she here yet?" She said excitedly. There was some squealing and whatnot at the front door, and I leaned over to Max and whispered to her that it wasn't usually this chaotic. She gave a small nod.

Finally, everyone had managed so compose themselves enough to all cram themselves onto the love seat, facing Max who was on the sofa. "I can move if you'd like..." Mumbled Max. Everyone began to chatter MORE.

"Ohmigawsh! She DOES have an accent!" Squealed Nudge in a voice high enough to make a puppy pee.

"You won't be able to say anything without them spazzing. Sorry." I told her from my spot on the end table.

She gave me a grateful grin, when I remembered that I hated her and looked away.

"Sorry, Max. We're all just quite excited to see you." My mom explained, grinning widely.

"It's all good; everything seems to be so brill." Max assured her.

"Okay, well then how are you? How was the flight?" Mom asked.

"It was a smite long for me, but I'm used to it, thank you. May I call you Mrs. Martinez?" Max asked.

"Call me Valencia, if you wish," My mother said. "Heck, you could even call me Mom if you want to."

"Maybe I will. I haven't had a mum since before I was born." She said cheerfully. Why was she been chipper while talking about her dead mom? How is it possible that her mom was dead before she was born? Flaabbering giblocks, this chick was crazeee! Said a voice inside my head. It definitely did not sound like my usual conscience, more like a ghetto conscience. I bet it was her stupid accent doing this.

She obviously saw our looks and launched into my explanation. "I don't mind talking about it. See, I was just in mum's belly when she went to the hospital for an eight month check-up. Sadly a vein in her brain burst all of a sudden and she died. No one knows why that happened, but her timing was dandy. They whipped me out of there and hooked me into an incubator. So technically, she's been dead since before I was born!"

Everyone sat in an astonished silence. I think we were all not only speechless by this, but thoughtless too.

"You said you were used to flying?" Gazzy piped up.

"Yes. I travel a lot with my dad's job. I've lived in a load of different places." She answered, visibly warming up.

"Where?" Angel asked. "I want to know!"

"Until now, I guess, I traveled a load with my father's business. I was 'born' in London, England and lived there for a year. Then I lived in Australia for a year. After that, I moved to Greece and was there until I was three and an half. Then I spent ten months in Brazil, my first memory being there. From just older than four to five and a half I was I South Africa-"

"I was born there!" Nudge interrupted.

"Cool," Max told her. "Really. After South Africa, I was in Kenya for around six months, until shortly after I turned six. Six until seven and a half was Jamaica. From seven and an half to almost nine I was going between Mexico and Belize . Then, I spent two and an half months in England. Then until ten, I was in Zurich, Switzerland. I visited England for two months after. From then until twelve, one of the longest times I've been anywhere, I was in Japan. I had a short, six month stay in Marseille, France. From twelve to thirteen and nine months, I was in Seoul, South Korea. From Seoul, I spent almost three months in England, and then moved to Canada, where I lived in St. Johns, Newfoundland then to Vancouver. I was there until I was fifteen, where I picked up my taste in music and my citizenship. After two months in India I was back in jolly old England. Until now." Max blushed at the end and I can tell she didn't like talking this much.

"Oh... Where do you have citizenships to?" Iggy prodded.

"Me?" Ma asked, as if there was anyone else here to ask. "Um... Canada, which is why I don't need a visa, Japan, England, Greece, South Africa and Jamaica. Basically, anywhere we stayed for a year and a half or more, I got a citizenship. Kind of a reward for experiencing the world so much, kind of a way of saying 'Well, I like it enough here to go back again.' I really don't know why, but I just have a citizenship."

"Sick. What languages do you speak?" Angel asked, leaning in, enraptured.

"Fluently, only English and French. And sign language, but that doesn't count. I have a good grasp on Spanish, Japanese and Korean. I still speak a wee bit of Swahili, German and Hindi. Mostly though, I use the other languages besides English to cuss people out." Max laughed, and so did everyone else, except for me.

Everyone leaned forward, completely engrossed, because Max was being a show off. It went on like this for a while. Q: What did she do as hobbies all over the world? A: She loves martial arts and got her black belt in Karate and Jujitsu and a highish ranking belt in Judo. As well, she is quite talented at drums, guitar, piano and violin. She reads and writes a lot, because she had lots of time on the road. Max loves to paint and draw all of the lovely places she visits and also takes many pictures as an amateur photographer. As well, Miss Perfect is a talented swimmer and surfer. Q: Is there anything she can't do? (I would've thought nothing, judging by the way she was going on). A: Cook and appreciate Justin Bieber. According to her, the only thing she can cook is eggs. Gosh, she's just a regular Wonder Woman wasn't she? I was beginning to hate Wonder Woman even more for being so

"Please, enough about me. May I ask about you?" Max finally told them, looking frazzled.

"First," My mom said "We need to know about you. Like the facts. We still don't know that much stats wise."

Max sighed, and was looking tired. I almost felt sorry for her. She must be jet lagged and had been answering questions for over an hour. "I'm Maximum Ride by name, but call me Max. I'm 17, eighteen Jamuary 28th. I like the colours black, silver, purple, blue and yellow. Now I know your names, but not who's who and what you like."

"I'm Valencia. I'm their mom and I won't tell you my age. I'm famous for my chocolate chip cookies, and you'll soon see why. I wish that I could stay, but I need to get dinner ready." Mom said quickly and excused herself and skipped, yes skipped, to the kitchen."

"I'm Angel!" Angel cried over excitedly. I glared at her, but she ignored it, her golden curls flying about as she bounced at the same time she talked. "I'm nine. I like the colour pink."

Nudge cleared her throat. "I'm Nudge. I'm 14 and I can talk up a storm, so I'll shut up now."

"I'm Iggy. I'm 17 and so is Fang. He's my twin. I like blue and green, he likes, well, black. I'm not too bad, but he's a right bloody bastard-son of a bi-" Iggy explained in a mock (and terrible) British accent, before my mom told him to watch his language from the kitchen. "You get the point though." Iggy continued. "Don't mind him."

Finally, Gazzy introduced himself, moving a bit of his blonde hair from his light blue eyes. "And I'm Gazzy, called that for a reason."

"And a stinky one at that!" Iggy piped in.

"Anyways, I'm eleven and I'm really good at making things explode and so is Iggy. I'm going to be in the army one day." Gazzy told Max proudly.

Max leaned forwards and grinned. "Maybe I'll see you there, Gazzy."

Nudges eyes widened, and I rolled mine. Really? Her in the army? Pshhh. I could tell just by looking at her that she was an individual type person who didn't exactly conform to rules. "Yup!" Max replied. "I'm thinking of being a medical technician. Save lives and help protect. I don't really like following the rules all that much, though." She gave Gazzy a small salute, which he happily returned. For a small second, Max's eyes clouded over, then were clear again with a small shake of her head.

Then they decided that it was imperative that we ALL gave her show of her room, then and there. "This is your room." Nudge started, and I nearly flinched. Here comes the Nudge channel. "I can totally tell that Fang thinks that I'm going to give you what we call the 'Nudge Channel' which is when I talk a lot, I guess, but it's more of rambling. But don't worry, because I totally won't do the Nudge channel so that I don't scare you off which is so bad because I don't want to have you hate me and OH SHI-"

I clamped my hand over Nudge's mouth and Max chuckled. "Do you know where the loo is? Sorry, of course you know where the loo is. Can you show me?" Max mumbled shyly.

I wondered what was so embarrassing about asking where the 'loo' was. We didn't even have a 'loo'... "Sorry," I said coolly. "We don't have a 'loo'".

Max looked slightly horrified for a second before laughing. She had such a nice laugh... Did I say that? I mean bloody annoying. Crap! Her stupid Brit talk was getting to me. I needed a nap..."You don't have a loo?" She asked, smirking. "Where do you use a toilet? The loo is the same as the washroom or toilet or whatever you call it."

Oh. I felt like a doofus. I should have known by context!

"You don't just feel like a doofus. You are one." Iggy piped up. I smacked him upside the head.

Damn it, I must have said that out loud!

"Yes, you did say that out loud." Angel snickered.

Crap what is with me?

"I don't know what is with you, but it's certainly not a girl!" Laughed Gazzy. With that, everyone started to laugh heavily.

...

...

I sat, glaring as Max shovelled noodles into her mouth. Much to my misfortune, I was sitting beside her. Mom had burned dinner, so she asked Max what she wanted to order after several dozen apologies. Much to our luck, Max said she wanted Chinese food. Much not to my luck, mom decided that because I was showing and 'obvious disrespect, dislike and dishospitabiliy' (yes she added dis- as a prefix, just so it would sound better) to our guest that I could not order any delicious, mouth-watering noodles and spring rolls. Lucky Wonder Woman, she had TWO boxes of noodles and spring rolls, and man, could she eat. I was seriously wondering why she wasn't as fat as Garfield.

Wonder Woman seemed to have slowed down a bit and noticed me glaring at her and my measly piece of toast. What can I say- I hated cooking. "Do you want my other box of noodles?" Max asked, grinning. I could tell that even though it looked sweet, there was a 'yeah, I'm glaring back' part of her smile, one that only I seemed to have detected. "I haven't touched the other box."

I glared at her once again, though more mild, as my family was bow watching. I sent Wonder Woman a 'I don't want your crap' look and hesitated. I really didn't want her stuff, but I was hungry, she had my favourite noodles and I sure as hell wasn't going to eat the toast, so I forcefully snatched the box out of her hands. For good measure, I also yanked the chopsticks she was using, noodles included, from her only seconds short from being eaten.

...

... Later that night, after some formalities, after Max had been shown her room and after everyone had gone to bed, I snuck out into the hallway. I moved slowly across the wooden floor, staying near the light green, photo plastered walls. I had managed to creep across everyone's doors except for Max's and was about to make my way down the stairs when Wonder Woman's door opened and Max crept out. And I ran into her, sending her over the top stair.

On instinct, I reached out and grabbed her wrist and the railing, saving her from tumbling down the long, wooden stairs head first. "Thanks," She mumbled, then looked up. "Oh, wait. It's you, Mr. Rude. Never mind."

She stood up and turned to walk down the stairs. I still had her wrist, and I sent her my worst death glare. She didn't flinch, and just gazed coolly at me.

"Don't make me give you my death glare, Skittles." She warned me. "My death glare is a million times worse and I don't want to have to use it." Max proceeded to pry my fingers off my wrist and walked downstairs.

Oh, this was war.


	2. Chapter 2

**(A/N: here's a short rant that has to do with the story. In all of the fan fics, Lissa is consistently portrayed as a slutty rhymes-with-witch. I can see why die hard fans like me wouldn't like anyone but Fang with Max, but come on! She never did anything wrong! Sure, she kissed Fang, but she wouldn't have thought that Max and Fang had this weird thing going on. I mean, poor Lissa thought that they were siblings, and the only place a siblings have a 'thing' is in the south. Sorry couldn't resist the southern joke. But anyways, all she said was 'you're nicks sister right?' WHAT IS SO WHITCHY ABOUT THAT? It was pretty polite, even. I mean she could've pulled Fang away or ignored Max! So why is she portrayed that way? I also think that considering the fact that in the giant world of fan fiction, Lissa is just as big a main/ supporting character as anyone, even though she said, like, four lines, James Patterson should have Lissa in the last book. She is considered a more popular character than Dylan in the amazing word of fan fiction! Okay, well my rant is over. All I need to say is that I do not own Maximum Ride, just the plot of this story. Also, read and review and give me some suggestions for things for Max to call Fang in the next few chapters! The phrases marked with an asterisk mean that it's a foreign insult that is worth googling. Also, I'm going to reply to my comments on here just for now because its the second chapter. And sorry, no time for an edit.**

_**Cinder and NHaqueWaters**_**: Thank you so much! Your comments made my day! They were probably the nicest comments I've gotten, and I always love getting comments. I am always paranoid that my writing style sucks or that it's mundane to read, so it's awesome to get that positive feedback! And it's really fun writing in a British accent, so I'm glad you like it. It's really funny sounding in my head, but it was based off the accent I heard from the women who pierced my ears when I was in England. And that was a random, boring fact...**

_**goldensunflower,**_** I Hate Jam and Chocogirl24: I will update as soon as I can, but I am very busy. I am teaching camp and starting high-school soon, but I will do my best to update every week or so.**

**Thank you guys so much Thanks, C)**

I woke up early the next morning, only to see that someone was up earlier. One guess. If you guessed, Max, Wonder Woman, you would be right. Boy, did she adjust fast. I guess it came with all the traveling. But to be up before six-thirty on a winter break morning?

Max hadn't quite noticed me and shivered a bit, her lips slightly blue as she took off her hat and coat, carefully shaking the snow off outside. I guessed that she had gone jogging, which was stupid, because this was in the middle of an Alberta winter. Why did I say jogging, because she had on a black and grey sweatsuit on under her parka. Which was ridiculous. I also noticed that she had a large, brown parcel in her hand. How did she get that? She must have checked our mail! I noticed a dark substance coming out of the package. Maybe she really was a spy...

"Crap." Max muttered quietly as she placed the parcel of the counter, her back now to me. I heard the tearing of paper. Was she opening our mail? How did she get our key? Max began unload several objects from the box that I could not see. It was then I decided to make my entrance. I pretended to make my way down the stairs, yawning as if I had just woken up.

Max turned around, the objects still not visible to me. "Why are you up so early?" She asked me, sending me a look that told me that she knew I had been watching her.

"No good morning?" I asked, acting mock hurt. "What about manners?"

"Sure thing, Mr. Manners." Max scoffed. "Why were you up so early?"

I was about to reply that I was an early riser, but I decided not to. "Why are you opening our mail?"

"I had a package that I couldn't bring on the plane, so I had to mail it here. Your mom gave me the key so I could check on my way back from my jog. Why do you care, Rainbow?" She shot.

"What are you trying to do? Set up spy gear?" I shot back, realizing a nano second later how stupid and juvenile it sounded.

"Don't get your nickers in a twist, toots. I'm not a terrorist or a spy." She said nonchalantly, and stepped away from her parcel, revealing boxes and boxes of... Tea?

"Tea? Why do you a have a giant box filled with dozens of boxes of tea?" I scoffed.

"None of you're business, but if you're SO interested in learning about me, I got hooked on it whilst in England and France and India. I don't care much for coffee. Now go, be a good host and put them away for me, as I don't know where anything is." She instructed, immediately after opening a cupboard, grabbing a frying pan, opened a drawer and grabbing a spatula and a knife, and opening the fridge, grabbing an egg, milk, onions and cheese.

"I thought you didn't know where anything was." I told her.

Max ignored me and began preparing her eggs. She chopped up some onions and sautéd them in the frying pan with some olive oil. Then, she mixed up the shredded cheese, milk, salt and pepper and some herbs along with five eggs. I finished unpacking the million varieties of tea that she had and watched her whisk the life out of the eggs until they were slightly fluffy, then poured them into the pan. Max let the eggs sit in the pan for a moment before scrambling them. Then she grabbed two plates and split the eggs onto the two of them, also adding a piece of buttered toast before setting the two plates in opposite ends of the table. How did she know where everything was, and more importantly, when the hell did she make buttered toast without me noticing? Unconsciously, I poured two glasses of orange juice and set one down at each plate along with a fork.

"Why did you make me breakfast? I thought we had a mutual dislike thing going on." I pointed out, sitting down, but not beginning to eat.

"Basic manners." Was Wonder Woman's simple reply. "Plus, if I could make toast without you noticing, I could just have easily gobbed into your food."

I knew what gobbed meant. "I want to switch plates."

"Fine. I didn't actually gob into your eggs." she muttered as we switched spots at the table.

I took a bite of my eggs. They were amazing. They were light and fluffy and had the eggy flavor that was perfectly complimented by the other items in the scromlette (scrambled omlette). "I thought you said you couldn't cook." I told Max through my mouthful of eggs, pointing my fork at her.

Max took a sip of her orange juice. "No, I said I couldn't cook anything except for eggs. I can cook eggs any way imaginable. When you've had fourteen years of only cooking eggs, you learn how to cook them pretty bloody well. I've even cooked ostrich eggs. Ee-yuck!" Max then proceeded to shove her whole meal down her throat in rapid succession. "Care for a spot of tea?"I opened my mouth to politely decline,but she beat me to it. "Sorry, I forgot. I'm that annoying, unwanted parasite that you hate. No tea for you." Wonder Woman sent me a glare, but judging by what she had said earlier, I was guessing that it was just a mild glare.

I took the last bit of eggs and used my fork to sling shot them, and they landed square in the middle of my face. I then proceeded to eat the rest of my food, eliciting her entire piece of toast, minus three bites to land in my hair.

Max chuckled adorably. Wait. Ignore that. "You're incorrigible, Scromlette." She told me, a small grin tugging at the corners of her lips.

After finishing eating and washing our dishes, I walked up stairs, knowing fully well that no one would be up for another two hours, or until nine.

I brushed my jet black hair and pulled on a black Black Veil Brides tee shirt along with some black jeans before going downstairs to watch television. I found an episode of the Simpsons, so I settled down on the big beige couch to spend my last Friday before school started up again after winter break. Bah. I was not looking forward to that too much. I mean, it would be fun, I guess. I would probably would not have Max in all my classes, so I'd see her less. Max wasn't too bad, I guess, but I still didn't like or trust her. I wasn't really looking forward to seeing Lissa or Bridgid again though.

If you're wondering about who they are, they are the two 'women in my life' as Iggy would refer to it. Let me explain. Lissa, for starters, is my girlfriend. I don't mind her much, she's a pretty redhead (for some reason, I like redheads) who is fairly nice and not too slutty and conniving, which isn't something that can easily said about all the other popular girls in the school. All in all, she isn't too bad, but I'm thinking of breaking up with her because she's a bit clingy and I don't want to lead her on, thinking that I'm still interested. Bridgid, I was confused about seeing. She was my chemistry teacher, and she was smoking hot. She had amazing red hair, which was long and straight (think Kim Kardashian hair, but on a pretty woman and red). She had an amazing figure, she was slender, but had curves in all the right places, if you get my drift. She also dressed to please, her signature style being a fairly short black pencil skirt with a slit up the side, a coral blouse, with the top two buttons left undone (giving the entire students and faculty a great view without being slutty) and a pair of black pumps. The majority of the schools straight male populace, students and teachers alike, had an attraction to her, if not a full blown crush. For me, I wasn't going to deny the mild attraction between us. She also flirted with me, especially when I was called to help her at lunch and after class. Even thought we could have, I was reluctant to start anything with her, because besides the thrill and fun of it, we both could get in a lot of trouble. Plus, it was the slightest bit creepy. I mean, she was 27, ten whole years older than me and almost a cougar. But man, was she beautiful. Not as beautiful as Max, but close. Again! With me thinking that! What is wrong with me?

Speak of the devil, I felt someone sit down on the couch beside me, and I heard a voice that was already annoyingly familiar. "Ace! You watch the Simpsons! I watched that all the time on the Telly at home!" Max cheered.

I glanced over at Max, who's eyes were glued to the 'Telly' screen. "No." I told her. "Go get changed. Now."

She gave me a questioning look. "Why?" Then she looked at her outfit, then mine and laughed. "I see you've got a good fashion p sense."

"Go get changed." I instructed her again. There was no way in heck that I was going to wear the same thing as a girl, especially Max. Our outfits were practically the same! Max had on black skinny jeans and I had on black boot cut jeans. Max had on black socks and so did I. And we both had on the exact same Black Veil Brides shirt... Poo.

"Why don't you get changed?" Max asked.

"I had this on first." I explained.

"There is no way to prove that." Max told me.

"Well, this is my house!" I argued.

"Well, I'm the guest!" Max countered.

"I already have it on, so I'm not taking it off." I told her, crossing my arms over my chest.

"Nor am I." She said, turning back the tv.

'If she thinks that I'm weak enough to cave and that she won, Max has another thing coming.' I thought snidely to myself. A few moments later, I noticed Max looking at me. "What are you looking at?" I snapped.

"The victim of a horrible, disfiguring accident, apparently." Sneered Max.

"Obviously you are mistaken. I've been asked out a million times." I retorted.

"You're mom asking you to go out and get a life doesn't count." She shot back.

"Haha." I said dryly.

"Well, that's the first sign of life I've seen from you yet." She told me.

"Just because I don't laugh at something from the exchange student other than her face doesn't mean that I'm as dead as her allure." I spat. Definitely not my best line, but most definitely not my worst.

"You know, I think you'd make a good exchange student." Max said honestly. That was strange. No comeback? "We could exchange you for someone better." There it was.

"I bet you were up all night thinking of that one." I told Max, forcefully poking her in her arm.

"I'd slap you, but that would be animal abuse." Max said, sticking her tongue out. Real mature.

"Well SOMEONE shoved her tampon up the wrong hole didn't she?" I asked. "And don't bother trying to slap me; you'll never be the man your mom was."

Immediately, I knew that that had gone too far. Max's face set in stone and there appeared to be no emotion. She refused to make any eyes contact with me and she jumped up from her spot on the sofa and strode stiffly up the stairs.

...

...

I woke up early the next morning, only to see that someone was up earlier. One guess. If you guessed, Max, Wonder Woman, you would be right. Boy, did she adjust fast. I guess it came with all the traveling. But to be up before six-thirty on a winter break morning?

Max hadn't quite noticed me and shivered a bit, her lips slightly blue as she took off her hat and coat, carefully shaking the snow off outside. I guessed that she had gone jogging, which was stupid, because this was in the middle of an Alberta winter. Why did I say jogging, because she had on a black and grey sweatsuit on under her parka. Which was ridiculous. I also noticed that she had a large, brown parcel in her hand. How did she get that? She must have checked our mail! I noticed a dark substance coming out of the package. Maybe she really was a spy...

"Crap." Max muttered quietly as she placed the parcel of the counter, her back now to me. I heard the tearing of paper. Was she opening our mail? How did she get our key? Max began unload several objects from the box that I could not see. It was then I decided to make my entrance. I pretended to make my way down the stairs, yawning as if I had just woken up.

Max turned around, the objects still not visible to me. "Why are you up so early?" She asked me, sending me a look that told me that she knew I had been watching her.

"No good morning?" I asked, acting mock hurt. "What about manners?"

"Sure thing, Mr. Manners." Max scoffed. "Why were you up so early?"

I was about to reply that I was an early riser, but I decided not to. "Why are you opening our mail?"

"I had a package that I couldn't bring on the plane, so I had to mail it here. Your mom gave me the key so I could check on my way back from my jog. Why do you care, Rainbow?" She shot.

"What are you trying to do? Set up spy gear?" I shot back, realizing a nano second later how stupid and juvenile it sounded.

"Don't get your nickers in a twist, toots. I'm not a terrorist or a spy." She said nonchalantly, and stepped away from her parcel, revealing boxes and boxes of... Tea?

"Tea? Why do you a have a giant box filled with dozens of boxes of tea?" I scoffed.

"None of you're business, but if you're SO interested in learning about me, I got hooked on it whilst in England and France and India. I don't care much for coffee. Now go, be a good host and put them away for me, as I don't know where anything is." She instructed, immediately after opening a cupboard, grabbing a frying pan, opened a drawer and grabbing a spatula and a knife, and opening the fridge, grabbing an egg, milk, onions and cheese.

"I thought you didn't know where anything was." I told her.

Max ignored me and began preparing her eggs. She chopped up some onions and sautéd them in the frying pan with some olive oil. Then, she mixed up the shredded cheese, milk, salt and pepper and some herbs along with five eggs. I finished unpacking the million varieties of tea that she had and watched her whisk the life out of the eggs until they were slightly fluffy, then poured them into the pan. Max let the eggs sit in the pan for a moment before scrambling them. Then she grabbed two plates and split the eggs onto the two of them, also adding a piece of buttered toast before setting the two plates in opposite ends of the table. How did she know where everything was, and more importantly, when the hell did she make buttered toast without me noticing? Unconsciously, I poured two glasses of orange juice and set one down at each plate along with a fork.

"Why did you make me breakfast? I thought we had a mutual dislike thing going on." I pointed out, sitting down, but not beginning to eat.

"Basic manners." Was Wonder Woman's simple reply. "Plus, if I could make toast without you noticing, I could just have easily gobbed into your food."

I knew what gobbed meant. "I want to switch plates."

"Fine. I didn't actually gob into your eggs." she muttered as we switched spots at the table.

I took a bite of my eggs. They were amazing. They were light and fluffy and had the eggy flavor that was perfectly complimented by the other items in the scromlette (scrambled omlette). "I thought you said you couldn't cook." I told Max through my mouthful of eggs, pointing my fork at her.

Max took a sip of her orange juice. "No, I said I couldn't cook anything except for eggs. I can cook eggs any way imaginable. When you've had fourteen years of only cooking eggs, you learn how to cook them pretty bloody well. I've even cooked ostrich eggs. Ee-yuck!" Max then proceeded to shove her whole meal down her throat in rapid succession. "Care for a spot of tea?"I opened my mouth to politely decline,but she beat me to it. "Sorry, I forgot. I'm that annoying, unwanted parasite that you hate. No tea for you." Wonder Woman sent me a glare, but judging by what she had said earlier, I was guessing that it was just a mild glare.

I took the last bit of eggs and used my fork to sling shot them, and they landed square in the middle of my face. I then proceeded to eat the rest of my food, eliciting her entire piece of toast, minus three bites to land in my hair.

Max chuckled adorably. Wait. Ignore that. "You're incorrigible, Scromlette." She told me, a small grin tugging at the corners of her lips.

After finishing eating and washing our dishes, I walked up stairs, knowing fully well that no one would be up for another two hours, or until nine.

I brushed my jet black hair and pulled on a black Black Veil Brides tee shirt along with some black jeans before going downstairs to watch television. I found an episode of the Simpsons, so I settled down on the big beige couch to spend my last Friday before school started up again after winter break. Bah. I was not looking forward to that too much. I mean, it would be fun, I guess. I would probably would not have Max in all my classes, so I'd see her less. Max wasn't too bad, I guess, but I still didn't like or trust her. I wasn't really looking forward to seeing Lissa or Bridgid again though.

If you're wondering about who they are, they are the two 'women in my life' as Iggy would refer to it. Let me explain. Lissa, for starters, is my girlfriend. I don't mind her much, she's a pretty redhead (for some reason, I like redheads) who is fairly nice and not too slutty and conniving, which isn't something that can easily said about all the other popular girls in the school. All in all, she isn't too bad, but I'm thinking of breaking up with her because she's a bit clingy and I don't want to lead her on, thinking that I'm still interested. Bridgid, I was confused about seeing. She was my chemistry teacher, and she was smoking hot. She had amazing red hair, which was long and straight (think Kim Kardashian hair, but on a pretty woman and red). She had an amazing figure, she was slender, but had curves in all the right places, if you get my drift. She also dressed to please, her signature style being a fairly short black pencil skirt with a slit up the side, a coral blouse, with the top two buttons left undone (giving the entire students and faculty a great view without being slutty) and a pair of black pumps. The majority of the schools straight male populace, students and teachers alike, had an attraction to her, if not a full blown crush. For me, I wasn't going to deny the mild attraction between us. She also flirted with me, especially when I was called to help her at lunch and after class. Even thought we could have, I was reluctant to start anything with her, because besides the thrill and fun of it, we both could get in a lot of trouble. Plus, it was the slightest bit creepy. I mean, she was 27, ten whole years older than me and almost a cougar. But man, was she beautiful. Not as beautiful as Max, but close. Again! With me thinking that! What is wrong with me?

Speak of the devil, I felt someone sit down on the couch beside me, and I heard a voice that was already annoyingly familiar. "Ace! You watch the Simpsons! I watched that all the time on the Telly at home!" Max cheered.

I glanced over at Max, who's eyes were glued to the 'Telly' screen. "No." I told her. "Go get changed. Now."

She gave me a questioning look. "Why?" Then she looked at her outfit, then mine and laughed. "I see you've got a good fashion p sense."

"Go get changed." I instructed her again. There was no way in heck that I was going to wear the same thing as a girl, especially Max. Our outfits were practically the same! Max had on black skinny jeans and I had on black boot cut jeans. Max had on black socks and so did I. And we both had on the exact same Black Veil Brides shirt... Poo.

"Why don't you get changed?" Max asked.

"I had this on first." I explained.

"There is no way to prove that." Max told me.

"Well, this is my house!" I argued.

"Well, I'm the guest!" Max countered.

"I already have it on, so I'm not taking it off." I told her, crossing my arms over my chest.

"Nor am I." She said, turning back the tv.

'If she thinks that I'm weak enough to cave and that she won, Max has another thing coming.' I thought snidely to myself. A few moments later, I noticed Max looking at me. "What are you looking at?" I snapped.

"The victim of a horrible, disfiguring accident, apparently." Sneered Max.

"Obviously you are mistaken. I've been asked out a million times." I retorted.

"You're mom asking you to go out and get a life doesn't count." She shot back.

"Haha." I said dryly.

"Well, that's the first sign of life I've seen from you yet." She told me.

"Just because I don't laugh at something from the exchange student other than her face doesn't mean that I'm as dead as her allure." I spat. Definitely not my best line, but most definitely not my worst.

"You know, I think you'd make a good exchange student." Max said honestly. That was strange. No comeback? "We could exchange you for someone better." There it was.

"I bet you were up all night thinking of that one." I told Max, forcefully poking her in her arm.

"I'd slap you, but that would be animal abuse." Max said, sticking her tongue out. Real mature.

"Well SOMEONE shoved her tampon up the wrong hole didn't she?" I asked. "And don't bother trying to slap me; you'll never be the man your mom was."

Immediately, I knew that that had gone too far. Max's face set in stone and there appeared to be no emotion. She refused to make any eyes contact with me and she jumped up from her spot on the sofa and strode stiffly up the stairs.

...

...

MAX POV

That incorrigible, blasted son of a- What kind of ignorant, pestilent bastard would say that about my dead mom? I mean, maybe I was being overdramatic, but still, that was a right beastly thing to say! That bleeding daft Nick!

I flopped down on my bed, wanting more than anything to punch Nick, or at least my pillow, but I wasn't going to give him that. I wondered what I had ever done to him, besides the insult war that I had just started and won, I mean. But he was totally asking for it, acting as if I was personally here to ruin his life. I wasn't going to do that, that's not me, but I sure as hell wasn't going to back down. This was war, and we both knew it.

I jumped up when I hear a knock on the door of my new room, which used to be -shudder- Nick's. "Max?" I knew it was Nick.

"Jigoku e ike!" I shouted, which meant 'go to hell' in Japanese.

"What?" Came Nick's voice.

This would be fun. Nick didn't understand a word I said! "Hanashi kakenaide yo Kono daburu teme!" I screamed at him through the door, with a small amount of feindish glee. What I said meant 'Don't talk to me you son of a female dog!'

"I wanted to say I was sorry for that comment. I mean I don't like you, but that was mean."

"Whatever." I told him. I didn't need this. And I wasn't changing my clothes. I grabbed a book and jumped off my bed. Opening my door and brushed past Nick. He looked surprised at my sudden exit but managed not to jump.

I breezed down the stairs to where a newly awoken Nudge sat.

"Morning Max." Nudge yawned. she still had on her extra large tee shirt that she wore to bed on, but seemed to have combed through her wicked bedhead.

"Good morning Nudge. How are you?" I asked.

"Hungry." She replied flatly. "When is Iggy going to make me my dang breakfast?"

I chuckled and opened my book as I heard Fang make his way downstairs. I was reading American Psycho, and it was pretty good. I hadn't gotten to any of the delicious morbid tidbits, and all it was was a bunch of yuppies being blasted arse-holes.

"Eeek!" Squealed Nudge. "You're wearing the same outfits! You could totally get married!"


	3. Dang Children

Chapter 3 of I Hate Wonder Woman

**(A:N: Fanks for the reviews! Sho happeee! o(^****^)o anyways, this is a wee bit out of character, and you will find out about Ella later, Ya dig! K thx! It's 12:12 a.m. Now, so bye! Also, **

**NHaqueWaters:**** Okay, yay. That review made my week! Thanks! Sorry I didn't update. I didn't have my iPod or computer and a lot of stuff was going to crap, but I will do my best. But school starts te day after tomorrow!****。・****・****(****_****)****・****・。****Oh no! But here, have a chapter. This one can be yours!**

**Criticism53: ****Did I say fourteen? I meant 17. Also, I I have family in Alberta, and over there, you can have your learner permit at fourteen anyways. But Fangs 17, if I accidentally said 14… Break the not likelies! ;3 Ummm… but in Ontario, you can drive at all until your sixteen. The laws vary province to province.**

**Bye! And enjoy and review and suggest!)**

FANG P.O.V.

Eventually, I did cave and change to a slightly different outfit. And I wasn't happy about it. Max should have changed. She was the girl anyways. Weren't girls supposed to care about that crap?

Now, I smugly watched as Max was subjected to more interrogation over breakfast. Even though she had already eaten, she was still packing down the three pancakes doused in syrup, Canadian Maple Syrup, the best, which Mom had given her. I gave her a short glare and considered asking her some questions just to make her uncomfortable, but that would involve actually showing interest in her, which I had none of. I still hated her. _Hate, hate, hate._

Fifteen minutes in, Nudge asked a question. "So, like, is it just you and your dad or is there someone else?"

It was an innocent question, but Max paled visibly. She sat completely still for a moment, her eyes blank, but flashing as if a movie was playing in her before excusing herself to go to 'the loo'.

I had no idea what that was about. I wondered if it was the question of if she really had to use the washroom or ate too much.

"Fang, go see if she's alright. She looked more than a bit green." I began to protest, but mom sent me a look that shut me up, so I slunk up the stairs.

I stood in front of the bathroom door, which was slightly ajar, as if someone had rushed in. Retching noises came from the bathroom. _Ewww._ Max was kneeling over the toilet bowl, puking her guts out, awkwardly gripping the seat with one hand and holding her hair back with the other. She looked as if she was going to fall in, so breathing only through my mouth, as the air reeked of rancid sour cream and vinegar; I sat down on the ledge of the bathtub beside her.

"You okay?" I asked.

Between heaves, Max managed to choke out a response. "Yeah," _Hurl. _"I'm-" _Hurl. _"I'm fine."_ Hurl. _Without thinking, I took her hair and held it away from her face for her, making sure to focus on her knees. I have a steel stomach- I can pig out, love gory books, the works- but I could not stand vomit, so I did not want to see hers. After sharing her breakfast with the toilet water one last time and a few dry heaves, I handed Max a few squares of folded up toilet paper, which she gratefully wiped her mouth with, flushing the full toilet. "Sorry about that."

"Whatever." I said, standing up and filling her a Dixie cup of mouthwash. "Here."

Max rinsed with the mouthwash and spat it out. "Man of many words…" She mused. "Hey Molar or Eye Tooth, or whatever, thanks."

"You looked like you were going to hit your head on the toilet, fall unconscious and suffocate in your sick."

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" She croaked venomously, her voice still raspy after her, er, _vocal exercises_. "I can see it in your eyes." She stomped off to her room.

I didn't want her to die, just disappear from where she wasn't wanted.

By the time I entered the kitchen again, it had been a good fifteen minutes and the family dispersed, so I joined my mom, helping her wash the dishes.

"So, is Max okay?" My mom asked, not looking up from the dish she was washing.

"After she puked her guts out." I told her, beginning to dry the dish she handed me.

"Poor thing." Mom clucked softly. "Any idea why?"

"She said she ate too much. Max woke earlier and ate then too. She was just too enticed by your delicious pancakes. They're a health hazard now." I joked.

Mom let out a laugh, but looked at me with complete seriousness. "You're keeping it no secret that you dislike Max, Fang. I'm disappointed with you. She's done nothing."

"Except for butting in where she doesn't belong." I muttered dourly, even though I knew that my mom probably could hear.

"Fang." My mom warned irately. "The poor thing. Her teacher informed me that she is incredibly lonely. She barely bothers to make friends anymore because she moves so often. She handles it well, but Max's teacher thinks that Max never feels like she is welcomed anywhere. Please, Fang make her feel welcomed here, or so help me, I will replace ninety percent of the black in your wardrobe with pink and orange."

That was a veritable threat, so I relented. "Fine. I'll call a truce."

"There is no truce to make. And you owe her an apology." Mom was speaking to me like a little kid. I threw down the dish towel, and went to my laptop where I updated my blog. Yeah, I had a blog, Fang's Blog. And my many readers would have a lot to read about (yeah, I'm kind of popular on my blog. I have a good portion of the school reading, plus a few thousand more followers.).

...

...

...

...

**January 4th, 2011**

**Subject: British Invasion**

**Hey,**

**It's me Fang (duh) again. If I haven't mentioned it, we have a frigging exchange student for nine whole months and I am not happy about it. And the exchange student sucks. Not to be mean, but she does. She's also really weird.**

**For starters, her name is Maximum, but she goes by Max. What kind of girl goes by the name of MAX? And her accent is really annoying. (No offense to any brits here.) It's not just British, but a mainly British mix of a crap load of accents, including French, Korean, Canadian and Indian, which are barely heard over the Brit-ness. Anyways, this chick, she thinks she is so amazing and so perfect. The one thing she is perfect at is being perfectly condescending. And a perfect you know what.**

**And she has weirdly colored hair. At first I thought it was just blue mixed in, be she also has a single highlight of every color in the rainbow underneath the back. And how do I know this? Much to my unhappiness, I had to hold back her lovely hair (note the sarcasm here.) while she oh-so-daintily vomited up her SECOND breakfast.**

**I bet she got knocked up at some goodbye party to some drunk dude and is getting morning sickness.**

**And she stole my bedroom, making me sleep in Iggy's room. Nonetheless, normally I wouldn't waste my time on this, but besides a possible terrorist moving in, nothing really has happened.**

**Well, I got to go listen to music.**

**Till later,**

**Fang**

...

...

Later that afternoon, Nudge suggested that we take Max to see the Glenbo, and epic museum. Max politely declined, saying maybe another day, and went back to her room, where I assumed she was sulking.

…

.:.:.:

Late that night, or early that morning, your choice, I got up once again to get myself a drink. I always had a difficult time falling asleep, and I didn't sleep deeply, so when I heard a ringing noise, I woke up immediately woke up. As soon as the slight grogginess wore off, I realized that someone must have picked up the phone. I figured it was my mom, because some nights she got emergency vet calls -a dog getting hit by a car and needing surgery, a cat giving birth to a breeched kitten, the works, so I was slightly surprised to hear hushed whispering coming from Max's room. I should have expected that. _But, why would she be taking calls at this time of night, unless she had something to hide?_

"Hey Ari..." Max whispered sadly. "You do know it's three thirty here, right? No, no it's okay. What's up? It's okay here. Everything's brill. They're all really nice except for this one emo kid. He's confusing. He seems to have this smoldering HATRED for me, but still... Never mind. What did you want to tell me, Ari? " Her door was slightly ajar, so I peeked in. Max was sitting cross legged, her profile against the window. There was something in her hands, a thin piece of paper that looked like a photo. A small bedside light was on, angled so that she would be less likely see me from my small sliver of a viewpoint. "_What_? He moved _again_? What the bloody hell is he doing in Denmark? What country will he be in by September, because I can't tell with that bloke!...Rubbish. Don't be daft. How did he mov-" Max seemed to get cut off, and for the nth time that day, her face paled. "What?" Max's voice was quieter and more mouse like. Her hand flew over her mouth and her face contorted into one of shock and grief.

I wondered what happened.

"Oh gosh... When did this happen? ...Yesterday? Why the heck didn't you tell me then?" Max almost shouted, a quiet shout, though. "...Sorry, Ari. have you told my father yet? You're having a hard time making contact? Okay, just give it a few days..." Max instructed dejectedly. "I know. Yeah. I'll be fine. Well, it's better for her. I should be glad. Okay. Bye. Maybe I'll get to see you again, cuz. If not, have a nice life."

_Well, that was a blunt way of saying goodbye forever. _I thought.

I watched as Max hung up the Skype she was using. She bit down on her lip and looked as if she was holding back tears as she muttered "Oh gosh, Ella" near silently. Max stood up and walked to her closet, pulling out a pair of sweats. I took this as a cue to leave, and I silently made my way down my stairs, carefully avoiding the creaky sixth step from the bottom.

I went into the kitchen and sat down at the island when I heard the tell-tale creak of the sixth step. Crap! I couldn't be caught! Max would definitely know that I know what she's up to... Or at least that she's up to something. With my epic ninjalicious skills, I dove into the sun/ mudroom. A split second later, Max entered the kitchen, decked out in blue sweats and a black hoodie, hood up. She bit her lip again in the adorable way I noticed that she did... (Oh quoi est mon probleme, as the French would say.). She slipped on her black Doc Martens and laced them up, then slipped out into the night.

What was wrong with her? Didn't she notice her measly sweats and hoodie and the thermometer by the door that proclaimed that it was -32 degrees Celsius out? Yes. It gets that cold out here in Canada. One time we were at a LATE FEBRUARY funeral in TORONTO (like, not even as north as it was here.) and the temperature was the same. They weren't even in a cold spell. Plus, besides her being user dresses, even though our neighbourhood was fairly safe, it was still quarter to four a.m. and she was 17 and pretty. That was just asking for a creeper! I gave the little terrorist ten minutes before I looked for her. In the meantime, I waited for her in plain sight at the island in the kitchen.

When Max did walk back in -precisely ten minutes and one second later, according to my watch, did that girl subconsciously live to bug me- I was met with a death glare. I mean, she didn't even have to notice me. It was really creepy. She just opened the door, pivoted and gave me the glare, which I grudgingly admit was the best I had ever seen, sadly. I winced and tried to look innocent, which was an oxymoron if I was involved, so I just cut to the chase.

"How was conspiring to blow up us and America?" I snarled accusingly.

Max's death glare, though I didn't think it possible, became the Super Death Glare (tm.). Shockingly, even though I thought otherwise, the SDG was made scarier by her ice encrusted eyelashes, her dangerously blue lips and the fact Max wasn't shivering or blinking. Just SDGing. (Super Death Glaring) Puppies probably would turn white and pee themselves if they managed to survive the withering glare.

"You. Are. The. Biggest. (This is censored for the safety of your mind and the mind of your future children; swears this bad can't be erased, they are imprinted in your genes forever.) I. Have. Ever. Met." Max growled rather frighteningly.

"Well, what were you doing out at this time. It's dangerous and I mean the weather too." I told her.

"Were you worried Molar? Or was it Eye Tooth?" Max glared at me, still not shivering.

"You are a spy." I accused.

"Which was why you spied on a _private_ phone call." Max practically shot me, the emphasis on 'private' being the bullet.

"Then why else was it at this time of night? What could be so important?"

"My cousin was on England time and it was important because my sister, Ella, just died. You are so effing insensitive."

I automatically felt terrible. Maybe I was the hugest _'bleeping bleep the bleeping bleep-hole called Earth had ever bleeping made, by bloody bleeping hell' _(I quote from earlier.) that she had ever met. There was water dripping off of her now, probably from the concentrated, pure, red-hot anger radiating from Max. And then came the slap.

Max reached out her arm and slapped me, hard across the face. _Damn, was she __**strong**_. Not only did she catch me at the worst place to be slapped -palm getting cheek and lower eyes, finger tips getting temple-, but with her strength and momentum, I could practically feel a carbon copy of her hand, fingerprints and all, swelling onto my face. "I'm sorry." I told her sheepishly.

"Shove it." Max spat. "I'm almost glad she died. She was suffering so much for so long and was so damaged by what happened that she couldn't think for herself." Max said the last part almost imperceptibly quiet. It sounded mean, what she said, but it was said with sadness, and whoever Ella, was, she had probably had some pretty bad brain damage.

"Uh... look." I told Max, grabbing ice out of the freezer for my face. "I'm sorry for being a dick. Really. Truce?" I offered my hand. Max glared at my outstretched hand for a moment, the spat into hers, holing it out for me to shake. Feeling slightly grossed out, but still sorry, I went to spit on my hand, but Max stopped me.

"No. Punishment." She said simply. Then she made an un-ladylike face, grabbed my hand and hocked the most disgusting loogey into it. "Truce" Max agreed.

...

...

"Oi!" Iggy exclaimed the next morning when he woke up. "I detect a distinct lack of hate rays. What could it be?"

"We made a truce last night." I explained, not bothering to ask how he knew.

"A truce after you realized the red-hot lust between the two-"

I shut Iggy up with a pillow expertly aimed at his face. "No. Shut up Iggy."

"Okay..." Iggy raised his hands in the universal surrender action. "You tell yourself that, but there is a smoldering passion." He teased.

It was Saturday, and mom decided that we would make a day trip up to Banff to show Max 'the beauty of snow in the Rockies' as I quote Angel. We were going to visit the hot springs, then just visit the national park and walk around the city. Mom had offered to take Max diving to the lake or whatever, but we all vehemently screamed 'No!' unanimously.

I was looking forward to it, even though it meant sitting in an enclosed space with Gazzy for ninety minutes. As Little Miss Occasional Vocabulary, Nudge would say, I was an ardent Banff lover. So everyone grabbed their swimsuits, towels and a change of clothes and we made our way to Banff.

Just over an hour and a half later, mom pulled the car into the hot springs parking lot. I gently woke up Max who had fallen asleep with Angel also sleeping on her lap. Before I did, I whipped out my phone and snapped a lovely 12 megapixel picture. Yeah, most people wanted an iPhone or whatever, but I had an iPod and I loved photography, so I settled for a Nokia N8, which had a great 12 mp camera. Max and Angel stirred, and immediately, Max smashed her face on the window.

"Cor, this is the most beautiful, breathtaking place I have ever seen!" Max declared animatedly.

"Oh, you should see it in the summer." I told her before catching myself. _A truce, but not kindness._ We all piled out of the car. Walking over to the building, Max stopped over at a railing.

"What's this?" She asked.

"Oh, that's where some snails live." Nudge explained. Max looked as if she thought there would be something more interesting there. "But I think they're really endangered. Like, they only live there and it's their whole ecosystem. I saw a documentary on Oasis HD or something on them. Apparently one piece of litter could easily kill them all. But you could have read it on the sign." Wow. For once Nudge's speeches held value.

Max grinned cheekily. "Oh. I guess I could have. But you're smart."

_'Kiss up'_. I thought, then stopped when I remembered the disgusting truce. Instinctively, even though I had washed my hands for twenty minutes using rubbing alcohol, soap and scalding hot water, I grabbed the hand sanitizer from my pocket.

...

...

Iggy, Gazzy and I walked out o the change room in in my black and grey plaid swim shorts, scanning the crowded pool for the girls. I spotted them at a fairly uncrossed area and we made a beeline over to them. Nudge and Angel sat in their matching pink (shudder) one pieces. Mom sat off to the side, on one of the white plastic chairs. I guessed she wasn't going in the hot springs.

A moment later, Max sauntered over to us, wearing tiny black swim shorts and a white shirt that read 'FINA 2008' over a black bikini top. The shirt was pulled up at the left side. "So, is the water hot? Really hot?" Max asked, slightly apprehensive.

I was about to respond when a petit brunette with her hair in a ponytail, maybe our age or a year older, ran over to Max. "Max? Oh my gawd. I never thought I would see you again, except maybe in a few olympics or something!" The girl squealed, bouncing in the balls of her feet. Max gazed at her without a hint of recognition. "Wait, you are the great Maximum Ride, right? I mean, I saw the FINA shirt and thought..."

Max nodded slowly. "Yeah. I am. Where do I know you from?"

"Oh, I guess you wouldn't remember me. FINA World Junior Swimming Championships 2008? Monterrey, Mexico? I'm Abbey Clarkson. I got silver in the 800m freestyle and bronze in the 400m medley! You are, like, my idol. You did so amazingly!" Abbey gushed.

Finally, Max seem to recognize the girl. "Oh, hey! Thanks! How are you? Are you still swimming?"

"One sec. Bri, come here!" Abbey was still enthusiastically hopping as she waved over a girl who was identical to her, except that she had platinum blonde hair. "Bri, it's Max, from FINA. Max, this is my sister Brianna. Silver in the 200m butterfly. Well, I'm not swimming from a shoulder injury, but Bri still is. Okay, well our mom is calling us. Hope to see you at the Olympics one day!" With that the two of them ran off.

Max looked dazed. "Well, that was... Interesting..."

"You can say that again." I said. "What was that about?"

Max took off the tee shirt, then dipped her toe in the water, testing it. She slowly slid in, then turned to face me, resting her arms on the edge of the pool, chin on her arms. "I she's from a swim meet. I'm a pretty good swimmer. Ok, I guess. I don't do it that much anymore." Max said, not bothering to explain what the girl had meant by Max being her 'idol'.

Nudge and Iggy slid in to Max's left and looked at her quizzically, but Max was busy watching Gazzy and Angel splash about. I cleared my throat. "Well, were you any good?"

Max looked at me. "I won a few medals, I guess." She shrugged.

"Like, how many?" Iggy gestured for her to continue.

"You really want to know? Well, Gold medal in 800m freestyle and 400m medley, I only beat Abbey by two fractions of a second in the 400m. I, Uh, also got Gold in the 200m backstroke and silver in 1500m freestyle. Nothing really."

Gosh, more Wonder Woman. How much more could I take?

"Wow." Iggy said. "That's cool. Do you still swim?"

"Not competitively. I stopped shortly after. I do competitive track and field now and was the captain of my last school's Rugby team."

"Rugby..." Nudge mused, pausing. "That's kind of like football right?"

"No... American Football, maybe." Max responded. "Everywhere except USA and Canada call soccer 'Football'." Max explained.

"So, you were like the best kid in the world at that?" Nudge asked. "It would be really cool to be the best at something. Then you might be famous, and even if you weren't, you'd have fans and such. And you'd get the pleasure of being the best at something. Like, if someone got up in your face and challenged you-"

Max cut Nudge off. "No. I'm not even that great. Some people may be a million times better than me, they just didn't have any opportunity to try. Which is why we should support charities like Jumpstart and stuff. I did that at my Paris school, starting a drive to get underprivileged kids into extracurricular programs." I started to scowl at Max, but when I look led at her, her eyes looked happy and alive.

Great, Wonder Woman just became more frigging perfect. Groan.

...

...

I wandered around the small mall with Iggy and, ugh, Wonder Woman, who was munching from a ginormous, rainbow bag of jelly beans. We had stopped off at a candy store all of us, but split up afterwards, leaving us to wander Banff until we were going to meet up at the burger place for dinner.

"Why do they have a Louis Vuitton here? Even with tourists, it doesn't make sense in such a small town." Max commented.

"I agree." Iggy said though a mouthful of candy, which we had gotten and the Rocky Mountain Chocolate Factory we had also stopped at. "I mean, it's not as if all the tourists are rich. Not even half of them, probably."

"You know, we passed a weed store." Max said nonchalantly.

"Hemp." I corrected. "It's hemp."

"Everyone knows that the only thing hemp can't do is get you high, and all stores like that sell weed in the back." She pointed out.

"Still." I said after a pause.

"Still what?" Iggy asked.

"Still nothing." I said. "I don't like staying in one place for to long. Let's get moving. Come on, Max." I turned around to get Max, but she wasn't there.

Crud.


	4. EVerybody WAs RUmor FIghting

**Chapter 4 of I Hate Wonder Woman**

**(A/N:SORRY I JUST STARTED HS BUSY BUSY sooo much homework that I sould be doing now and I based the school lightly off of mine, shock is pretty cool...Just going off my 1+ years old memories of Banff. And it was last summer. SUMMER. No snow, sorry if I made any mistakes. Also this is more of a filler... So sorry if parts of it are booooorrrrrrriiiiiinnnnnngggg.**

**NHaqueWaters: thank you thank you! :D I love suggestions. I'm glad I'm not being too cliche. I worry so much about that! And your ideas were good. Im going to use some of it, but at their stage of 'hidden passion' :P, Fang probably wouldn't get jealous unless Max accepted like, six dates, which would make her...Lissa. :D but I will incorporate your ideas!)**

MAX P.O.V.

I entered the Coles bookstore on the lower level. I had left Fang and Iggy on the upper floor whilst Fang was trying to think up the genius response of 'still'. Ohs well, they could find me.

I spent a few minutes in the aisles, picking up books. I knew almost exactly what I wanted. I walked out with the two books. Some of the stuff that I wanted, wasn't here, but I recalled seeing a thrift store nearby.

Pulling my jacket tighter around me, I stepped out into the cold. The view was breathtaking. The small town streets were covered in a blanket of white snow, and the looming mountains were also white, dotted with the occasional green. The sky was a frosty blue, the comfort (for me at least; I love rain and storms) of dark, ominous clouds moving towards Banff.

I made all my purchases in the basement thrift store, interestingly underneath the 'hemp' store.

"Max!" Called out a voice.

I looked over to see Gazzy waving at me, Nudge, Angel and Mrs. Martinez behind him. "Hey, Gazzy."

"Where's Nick and James?" Mrs. Martinez asked me.

"I went to a bookstore and must have wandered off. Sorry." I said.

"Do you want to join us? We're going to visit a small art gallery that my friend works at, then to a tea store. You'd like that?"

"That would be ace!" I said cheerfully, which isn't me.

"Yay!" Angel cried. "Maxy!" She wrapped me in a hug, her golden curls spilling out of her blue hat. Aww. She was so precious!

The art gallery was really cool. There was some interesting works there, and it turns out that Mrs. Martinez's friend was actually an artist on display. Unlike 60% of the small gallery's work, her 15% wasn't landscapes. Her art was to my taste -dark and provocative. It was also really hard to describe. On the way out, there was a bowl with button-pins in them saying things like 'stop in the name of art' and art happens. There was also a web adress for the gallery. [ww(dot)affta(dot)ab(dot)ca].

We only had a half hour before our dinner reservations, so we went to check out the tea store. 'Twas a tea lovers heaven! It was the dogs! It smelt like tea, and there was, naturally, tea everywhere. We stood around for a few minutes before I decided to treat myself to a bag (not as in a single pouch, but a Maggie of loose leaf tea, sixty cups worth) of blue mango tea. (A/N: I would go back to Banff just for blue mango tea, if not for the scenery, quaintness, awesomeness etc.) Gazzy was sniffing around and mom -er, Mrs. Martinez, Nudge and Angel were fascinated by the blossom teas, which, when put in cold water kind of flourished into a spiky bunch of tea leaves, like porcupine quills, with a flower on top. It wasn't as pretty as it sounded.

And from what I remember, it didn't taste great either.

...

...

That night in the car, I pulled out my bag, stuffed to the brim with the things I had purchased in Banff. Most of us, save Mom , sorry- who was driving and I were sleeping. I didn't think Fang was really asleep, just faking. I guess I could read him. But he was still confusing. He was such a jerk all the time and went and apologized. A few times. And then there was the barfing thing. That happened sometimes when I thought about what happened. I mean, I nearly barfed on his hand when I got the news about Ella. I don't know how I even managed to keep composure. I guess it was relief, I loved Ella so much, she had been my sister and best/only friend, but after what I did... I was just glad she wasn't stuck suffering in the horrid hospital anymore.

Way off topic. I can't think about this anymore. I rooted around in my bag, also for a pen and some paper and began to write out each note. I knew it was kind of stupid, but I had bought everyone a little gift in Banff, just as a thank you for their hospitality. Usually, I didn't bother thanking people or even bothering with them period, but the Martinezes seem nice and I didn't want to mess this up too badly. I'd never tell Dad this, but sometimes I was tired of traveling everywhere. I was tired of running away from his grief about moms death, and I just wanted to settle down somewhere and make friends, which I stopped taking pains to do. I never knew when I would leave, and it was always the same suckage everytime I left a friend. I didn't mind being alone, but sometimes I wanted a friend, you know?

'Nudge,' I wrote. 'I hope you like this and that it fits you. Max' Short and sweet. I put it on top of the coral-pink vintage forties dress that I had found at the thrift store and placed it on her lap, in the minivans row behind me so she wouldn't wake.

'This shirt seemed to fit you. Hope you like it! :3 -Max' I put this one on top of the shirt I bought Iggy. It was green and said 'Player' in yellow on the front. I placed it too, gently on his lap, a difficult reach because he was riding shotgun and I was in the bucket seat across from him.

'The store owner said her name was Celeste, and she's an Angel just like you! :) -Max' I put the stuffed Teddy that looked like an angel on Angel's lap along with the note in her spot beside Nudge. Instinctively, her sleeping arms curled gently around the bears white fur. Awww. Adorable.

'Gazzy... I was going to get you some yummy food, but then I learned why you were nickname what you are... So hope this is okay.' I had gotten Gazzy a book on explosives. I hoped he wouldn't misuse it.

'Thank you for everything. :)' I wrote on the inside cover of the book on veterinary history I had gotten Mrs. Martinez. 'I know it sounds boring, but my mom was a vet, just like you and she enjoyed it. ~Max'

I was going to give it to her later, so I didn't distract her while driving. There was only one gift left to give. Mr. Emotional. I guess you think either that 'no, he is not unemotional, this whole time he's been angry(!)' or 'this is such a cliché. I'm going to stop reading now.'. If it's the latter, I have no idea if this would be a stereotype; I don't read teen romance. I usually read something in the horror genre, something disturbing, something original, such as Lullaby or something provocative, such as the Room. These books don't often have hugely romantic plots. If it's the former, yes, he is unemotional! The only time he shows emotion is a) when he glares at me. :I or b) when he has a cookie! Which smell really good. I went to have one yesterday, and he slapped out of my hand- literally. Then with ninja skills that I am jealous of -I mean, my ninja skills are fairly epic as well- and caught the cookie two inches above the ground.

I pulled out the books, and I think that he would like. One was a book about famous serial killers and the other one was American Psycho. I personally was only about nine chapters in. It was a bit perverted and it was mostly a bunch of yuppies being arse holes, but it was supposed to get nice and disturbing. (A/N: Efffing yuppies in that book...D:)

'Fang,

Hope you like it, arse-head. : D

Max.'

I thought for a moment, then crossed 'Fang' out and replaced it with 'Mr. Sentient'. Oh, how I love sarcasm. This too, I placed on his lap, though less gently because I thought he was wasn't asleep.

Like all times, I was right.

"What's this?" Fang asked, not bothering to open his deep, obsidian eyes. Oh gosh... Did I really say that? I better not be turning soft. That would be the end of me.

"A gift. I bought one for everyone." I replied tersely.

"What is it?"

"Stop talking. You'll wake everyone."

"You're talking."

"Kuso kurae. If you want to know, open your eyes dipwad." I snapped. And slapped his leg, since he was beside me.

"Dipwad?" Fang snickered. "Didn't know that was British."

"It's not as though I've only lived in England. I've spent most of my life NOT there. I assimilate myself quickly. In a week, I'll probably won't be using much British speak." I explained.

Fang gave an imperceptible nod. I stifled a yawn, all of a sudden exhausted. I forced my eyes open, staring at the mountain view and the beginnings of Calgary, but my exhaustion got the better of me. I pulled my legs onto the seat next to me and leaned into Fang, falling asleep instantaneously.

...

...

Fang P.O. V.

The strangest thing happened over the rest of the weekend: Max and I became almost friends. I finally accepted (to a degree) that she was here, no changing that, and that I should make the most of it. Of course, that only happened when I made sure that my cookie supply was secure. (Mom made sure to make a few extra cookies.)

Yeah, yeah, my soul and morals for a freaking cookie.

"So what do you think so far?" Iggy asked Max. We were standing in front of our school,(Calgary Academy) a grey brick building, the snow in front of it a mushy colour to match

"It's rather stereotypical." Max noted, in her adorable accent.

"So you don't like it?" I asked, bewildered. Everyone seemed to love this school. It was a very prestigious school, and had a very good reputation. Even I liked it, as it was going to be great for getting into a good uni and was otherwise decent.

"No. I like it. It's just stereotypical, which I don't mind." Max waved her arm, gesturing to the obvious jocks, nerds, drama kids, etc. in their separate cliques. And of course, the slutty cheerleaders, shivering under thin opened jackets, made that way to show off their boobs. "It's nice. I'm just saying."

Iggy and I nodded. I never quite realized it before.

"And if I didn't know better, Fang would be in that group." Max pointed to the 'emo/punk/goth/' group.

"No, I'm more of the Prince of Darkness type." I said. Max laughed, the sound ringing in my ears.

...

...

MAX P.O.V

Wow...this had to be one of the most normal places I had ever been. I was always homeschooled or private schooled, where everyone was super rich. I felt like a fish out of water. I was so different from them, and the only thing I shared was my wealth, which actually surpassed much of theirs.

I guess it wasn't something I shared with people. My dad was the VP of a huge company. Think of a big company, any one. One that you think is huge and independent, even if it had a bunch of subsidiaries. Anything. A website, food company, television company, even a software company. My dad probably owns it. And my grandfather, he's the president. Collectively, our estate is somewhere in the 10 or eleven figures. That high. I guess you could say we are really fortunate, but all that glitters isn't gold. My life is far from perfect. It's so cold when I'm there. I mean, if I wanted to go to school here, I could. My dad would send me to any highschool -or university; I actually had graduated the year before with honors- If I (he) wanted to go to, and I'd be there. Before I graduated, I applied for this program so I could go to this school on what people over here call a 'victory lap'. I didn't need one, but I just needed to get away and feel normal.

No one actually knew about any of this. It wasn't something I shared with anyone. So I definitely wasn't going to tell Fang. I had a sense that already thought I was full of myself. But I wasn't. I knew that I was a bit of a burden on y father, who really didn't need a residence, just hotels, bur kept short term ones for me. I knew that I could be really unkind and annoying. I knew that I could be... Just too me. This was my chance to change that.

I had two of my four classes with Fang and Iggy, who shared classes, and lunch with both of them and Nudge, who was in Year 9.

The bell four fourth period rang, and I made my way to lunch. One more period, than back to my new home. I made my way to the next door Mall/Plaza, where I was to buy dinner -er lunch. I was walking alone. I still wasn't quite so used to waking up so early and I was too tired to focus on anything but classes. I think a few people had asked my to join them, but I politely turned them away.

My mid shin Doc Marten boots made a pleasant crunching sound in the dirty, trampled thin snow as I made my way over to a coffe shop I recognized. Not because it was particularly famous or in a GINORMOUS chain, which it was, but because it was something my dad and grandfather owned, Jeb and Jeb Sr.

I figured that I'd eat there. It was only fifteen minutes into my lunch so I still had an hour left to read and nap a bit, hoping I could catch up on some z's.

Sadly, the place was really quite full. School traffic, I guess. Before I ordered, I managed to find a empty table hidden in a dimly lit back corner, where it seemed almost magic. Not because it was sparkling like a gay vampire, but because it seemed almost quieter and less hectic than the rest of the bustling coffee shop.

Stepping up to the counter, I ordered a peppermint tea, spinach and feta quiche and a small cookie. Fat/Cal city, but I had a high metabolism and was pretty active. I made my way over to the corner, lithely making my way between the choking mass of people and sat down on the worn brown seat.

I scuffed my steel and faux leather (I had my boots specially made so I would have , but not wear animals) against the floor, where it seemed that long ago, someone had done the same thing as me for a long time as me. There was a dark brown groove in the floor in the same pattern that I moved my feet.

I chewed slowly. The

Quiche here tasted better than most places, even though it was the same recipe for each place. It wasn't the best, but pretty good. Decently eggy, not too feta-y or spinach-y, but slightly too salty. It was okay.

I spent the better part of the hour there, trying to get through some of War and Peace, which because I hadn't much time, I was only twenty of so (out of, like, 1400) pages in. When it finally was time to go to school, I realized that I actually had a free period. YES! That was really lucky. My schedule was 3 classes in the morning (not really anything academic. Just art courses and one college level maths course. ) and lunch, then a free period. I could stay here all afternoon and nap. And it was like this every day for the entire semester! Yes! I quickly gulped down my lukewarm tea, then went and bought another one before settling down to nap.

...

...

I was woken by feeling my phone buzz on my cheek. I groggily sat up and pulled my phone from it's spot on my cheek.

A call from Iggy... When did I give him my cell phone number?

"안 용" I said, pronounced 'an yong' and was Korean for 'hey'.

"Whoa. What?" Iggy asked quizzically. "Uhhh. Do I have the wrong number?"

"If you weren't planning on calling me, than yes." I said, smirking.

"Okay, Maxie, dahling," Iggy crooned. "Do you want a ride? Were in front of the coffee shop."

"Okay one sec. Do you want anything? I've been here since lunch."

I heard Iggy's voice in the background. After a moment, he came on again. "Yeah. A chocolate chunk cookie and a coffee berry tart."

"I don't know why my dad put that on the menu. It is so nasty." I grumbled.

"What was that?" Iggy grilled.

"I'll be out in one minute." I ran to the counter, and quickly ordered, waving to Iggy and Fang when the pulled up. I ran out into frigid air, my black jacket slung in the crook of my arm, a bag of our snacks in my hand, the warmth piercing my fingertips.

"Hey." I greeted, sliding into the backseat of Fang's and Iggy's car, which Fang seemed to always drive. "You didn't save me shotgun. Even though I brought treats!"

"Sorry." Iggy told me, grabbing the bag I was holding out. Iggy gave Fang the cookie and took the tart for himself.

"Iggy, those are rubbish. I don't know how you like them." I told him bluntly.

"I know." Fang agreed. "They're nasty."

"Oh, shut up." Iggy spat jokingly and turned on the in car iPod dock and Fang turned onto the road. We had a twenty minute drive to our home.

Iggy and I unanimously began to sing 'Lowlife' by Theory of a Deadman loudly. Luckily the windows were up and the music wasn't too loud so we didn't get any dirty looks as we drove. Fang sent a look back and his lips began to quirk into the smallest little smile and as he turned away, I felt my face quirk into a smile.

For the rest of the car ride, Iggy and I sang along to music, wot whatever lyrics we knew, even screamo and rap. We switched between Fang's iPod and Iggy's, and I can bet that you can guess who had which music.

...

...

FANG P.O.V

Max had disappeared into shortly after dinner into her room and had been in there for a few hours, so I decided to check in on her.

I pushed open her door and saw her sitting on the ledge that jutted out from the window. Her laptop was on her lap, and the pale blue glow from it was the only light in the room. I walked over to her. She was watching some next anime.

"What are you watching?" I asked.

Max looked at me, then pulled a pair of headphones down around her neck, hidden by her hood. "Huh?"

"What are you watching?"

"Oh. Deathnote." Max replied. "Ever seen it, Smiley?"

I groaned. "One episode. Can I join you?"

"No. This is episode twenty." She replied. "And there's no room on this ledge." She tapped the inch of space between the pillow she was sitting on and the end of the wood.

"Eh. Cool. I'm going to go mess around on my blog now. Nite." I gave a small wave on my way out, but I had the feeling that as I closed her door, she was only focusing on Deathnote.

After I finished a post asking my readers to send me the funniest story's they've ever had over a winter break as the 'Funny Winter ChocoYum' contest,(I get ad money from my blog, and sometimes companies donate prizes, in this case ChocoYum Corp.), I noticed that there was a unposted blog from a few days ago. I just added a note saying that it hadn't posted before, I posted it without reading and went to bed.

...

...

MAX POV

That morning at school was really strange, and I had no idea o what was going on. Until lunch, that is.

I walked quickly down the hallway on my way to homeroom. I always liked to get there ten minutes early and listen to music. As I passed a group of garishly dressed cheerleaders, their high pitched chatter stopped and *purposely* badly masked snickers commenced.

I couldn't exactly hear what they said, and I didn't care. Gossip girls where everywhere, all the same, no different, not worth your time. Then in home room, people started pretending to barf around me, put things under their shirts and act like they were pregnant. I continued to ignore it throughout the day, which was accompanied by whispers of 'barfy' and 'prego' a few people, mostly jocks, came up and me if mornings were tough before running away, laughing as if they were small children playing 'Nicky Nicky Nine Doors'. Still, I did not respond until my last period before lunch that day, Gym.

I was changing into my uniform, my shirt halfway over my arms which were over my head, when one of the cheerleaders came up to me. Unflapped, I finished taking off my shirt and grabbed my gym shirt.

"Max... Can I ask you a question?" The girl, one with bottle blonde hair, drawled.

"Just did." I said, starting to pull my shirt on.

"Where the baby bump?" She sqealed.

The locker room burst into laughter, except three people. On gothic girl, one girl with glasses, and a red headed cheerleader who I thought was Fang's girlfriend.

"Guys," She started. "Shut up. It's just a stupid rumor that is almost certainly not true. You're being jackwads."

Everyone turned back to their changing except for me. I walked over to Lissa, my shirt still half on. "Thanks." I said to her thankfully. "Do you mind telling me what this rumor is?"

Lissa pulled a scrap of paper out of her bag and wrote something on it in a purple pen. She handed it to me. "I think you should see for yourself. Here's the webpage link." She explained.

"Thanks." I told her again and pulled my real shirt on, throwing my gym clothes in my bag and running out. I went straight to the library to figure out exactly what's going on.

...

...

FANG POV

When I saw Max in the hallway on the way to lunch, I waved her over. She was a ways away, but managed to see me, and immediately turned on her heel and sped off. I quickly walked over to where she must have been going. She continued to storm off. "Hey. Slow down!" I said, closing in on her.

Max stopped suddenly, and I had to backtrack to avoid running into her. Her head was down and a

Crimson plastic binder clutched in her left hand. She looked up, a scary look on her face. "You..." She murmured.

"Wha-" I started to ask, when all of a sudden there was a very painful sensation on my cheek.

"Knocked up at some goodbye party to some drunk dude?" She cried angrily. "Morning sickness?"

What was she talking about? Another sting on my cheek, and this time I knew what it was. She was slapping me -with the hard and occasionally sharp edge of her binder.

"Possible terrorist?" Slap. "Perfect at being perfectly condescending." Slap. "And a perfect you know what?" Slap. Slap. Slappity slap.

"What are you talking about?" I asked bewildered and probably bleeding from the cheap plastic edge of the binder. Normally, I would fight back, but I was still confused.

"You tell me, arse hole! Your words, not mine." This time she walked slowly up to my face. I still wondered what she meant. I never- oh. My blog. I wrote that on my blog. For the whole world to see and definitely my whole school. I felt kinda bad about that. That was really mean and the whole school would have read it.

I felt her warm breath on my face and realized how close she was to me. Was she going to...kiss me?

Obviously not, as she reached out and pinched my nose hard, then shoved my head back, causing a surprising amount of pain. I stumbled back, clutching my nose as she walked off, middle finger high in the air.

...

...

I tried to apologize several times over the few day, to no avail. She didn't ignore me, which definitely seemed to immature for her, but she was cold. Frigid, really.

She managed to somehow dispel the rumor, and two days later, guys were practically throwing themselves at her, even though Max was oblivious to their flirts. Most people seemed to like her, since the cheerleaders and the jocks let go of the rumor so quickly. If they didn't like you, the rumor would go on and ruin your life. I had seen it happen before. I wanted to help the kid, but since I wasn't a jock (I worked out alone. I don't really like being around a million sweaty people) I was powerless to help.

I had heard guys asking her out or thinking about asking her out all day. I saw her at lunch, in the middle of a crowd, but as I approached, she managed to have wormed her way out without anyone noticing, except for one of my least favorite people, Dylan.

Ma didn't notice me and neither did Dylan as they walked to the cafeteria doors.

"Come on Max, just one date. I promise you'll like it." Dylan pleaded. My hands clenched into fists. I hated that kid, and what right did HE have to ask Max out?

Woah. 'Cool down dude.' I told myself. 'Its not like you own her.'

"I already told you. I'm not interested in dating anyone right now." Max sighed. "But we can eat lunch together, I guess."

I walked up to them. "Sorry to interrupt." I said sarcastically. "But can I talk to Max?"

Dylan looked at Max, and Max looked at me. I started to feel really annoyed. I can't be around Dylan, and he can't be around me. We've been enemies since he stole the cookie my MOM gave me in Senior Kindergarten. And since I never take any crap, I stole his dignity and entire lunch. And by taking his dignity, I mean that I took his apple juice box, and sprayed it on his pants and floor. He was called 'Mr. Pee Pants' until second grade.

Max must have noticed my annoyedness, because a satisfied smirk came over her face. She ignored me and looked at Dylan. "On second thought, Dylan, why don't we skip lunch and see a movie?"


	5. Icy, Icee

Chapter 5 of I Hate Wonder Woman

**(A/N: I was going to make this a lot longer, but the cliffy I was going to use for last chapter is now the cliffy for this chapter... And thank you for all of your reviews and support. I would love to respond to them all, but with all my school and life stuff, I barely have time to write. Sorry... and I know the movies are wrong for theatres, but I don't know what was out or will be out, as I never see movies, so forgive me. Also, I'm sorry, but I can only give updates once every two weeks, and because I also must write a book for school, I'm pausing my other story, Feather Strings until at least x-mas.)**

MAX POV

"So what class do you have right after this?" I asked Dylan as we made our way to the plaza where the theatre was. We had decided to go see a movie at the beginning of lunch, meaning that Dylan was skipping his last period class.

"French. Which I suck at, so it doesn't make much difference." He replied, brushing a strand of his sandy blonde hair out of his eyes.

"What other classes do you have this semester?" I asked, rubbing my arms up and down the sleeves of my thin jacket. I wasn't planning on being out long today, so I skipped out on the bulky coat.

"Math. Music. French. Religion." He rattled off, ticking each one off on a mitted finger. "How about you?"

"Pretty much just art electives and stuffs. But I have fourth lunch and fifth free, so I'm not missing anything." I said. "I'm fluent in French." I breathed on my fingers and we stepped into the theatre.

"You could tutor me."

"Don't get your hopes up." I scoffed. "I am a horrid teacher. Something horror or action?" I asked.

"I'm not much for horror, but Nightmare on Elm Street, the new one, is starting in ten." Dylan said, his turquoise eyes uncertain.

"Wait here." I instructed. This theatre was one that my dads company owned, and I had a special card that got me free passes into any movie I wanted. When I was seven, I could see R rated films without an adult. Anyone who stopped me would be in trouble. Being rich had it's pros, like free anything, and cons like being kidnapped and held for ransom at age 13 or watching you sister get brutally murdered at age nine... But those are stories for later.

I got the tickets and went over to Dylan, who was, I admit, hunky hunk, but seemed needy and was way too popular for me.

"Thanks." Dylan told me, smiling. "Since you got the tickets, I'll get the snacks."

"No! No, no." I said, waving my hands in the air in front of my chest. "I have a discount card coupon thingamajig."

We walked up to the counter, got out of the theatre and went into the movie.

...

...

I laughed as Dylan mimicked the first killing in the movie.

"Guarg! Monster!" He mimicked cutting across his neck. It wasn't actually funny, but the expression he put on his face was.

"I'm sorry. That sucked. The eighties one was better." I replied as we walked out of the theatre into the cold biting air.

The weather had gotten significantly worse from the beginning of the movie, and snow was falling as big and white as wet, sloppy pearls around us and the students streaming out of the school. Goosebumps rose under the material of my coat.

"I guess it's time to go home now..." Dylan said nonchalantly. "Do you want a ride?"

"No thanks. I think we go in opposite directions. I'll just take the city bus." I replied. I hated the Metro, especially in the winter. But I wasn't gonna ride with Fang.

Dylan gave me a look and told me that that probably was the best, as he had to get to drum lessons.

"You take drums?" I asked, leaning into the window of his blue car.

"Yeah. For almost three years now." He said. "You play?"

"Yeah. Guitar, piano, violin. And drums, too." I replied slowly. I never liked talking about what I was good at. It made me feel uncomfortable. I almost wished that I was bad at everything. I reached up and scratched a spot on the back of my head, near a

streak of purple. "I should catch my bus. Bye."

I walked off to the bus stop, at least I hoped it was. I consulted the graffiti covered map on the covered stop and figured out my bus. 200 to the mall terminal, then. 44 Eastbound, where I would get off after fourteen stops. Simple. I've had to remember much more difficult things.

Clumps of now thick, wet snow slapped and slid down the shelter as I dug around in my bag for bus fare. I finally managed to scrape together the three dollars and much to my luck, the bus pulled up only seconds later.

The floor was covered in brown puddles and old gum, along with the chairs. This was gross, but I found a chair next to a slightly pimply guy who I thought was a freshman. I really couldn't complain. After spending three days tied to a post in a dank musty and infested underground parking lot of an abandoned insane asylum, not much could faze me. But that wasn't a story for now.

I shook my head and tried to ignore my growing headache and groping stare of the boy next to me.

...

...

FANG POV

The next day, Max still was being cold, but this time, so was I.

I knew Dylan could be a jerk. A really bad jerk and a player and an overall ass. And if he dated Max, her heart would get broken. Actually, that didn't seem likely. Like all the guys in the school, he seemed to be all 'loyal puppy dog' towards her. Max was definitely more the unintentional heart breaker type. Breezes through like a lark -no eagle- leaving behind a trail of broken hearts.

"Brrr." Iggy said, mimicking shivering on our way to our last class before lunch. "I can feel the frigid air from here." he remarked, as Max and I passed by in the hall, both of us sending icy, but not death, glares.

I entered the classroom and sat in my usual seat in the art room. The art room was set up with several tables for three or four people, and all the art supplies lining the east wall. Each wall was labeled with one of the cardinal points and had a mural on it, the oldest one getting repainted by the students during the semester. Max had sat with Iggy and I for the first few classes, but then after the fight, we weren't sitting beside each other. Now Max sat at her own table, seemingly happily alone, as she told anyone else that she 'worked better alone'. Personally, I just didn't think that she was a huge people person. She seemed to enjoy company part of the time, but she also seemed to be very selective with whom she enjoyed it with.

"Guess who!" Cried a sickening voice as a pair of hands covered my eyes. No, this voice was sadly not sickeningly British; it was sickeningly girly and sugary.

I turned around to face Lissa. Iggy excused himself from the table to sit with another one of his friends, Jake. "Hi Lis." I said slowly. "How was your ski trip?"

Lissa sat down beside me. "It was amazing, Nicky! But I missed you so much! I can't believe you couldn't come!" Lissa turned towards me and wrapped her arms around my neck. "Did you miss me?" She didn't give me a chance to respond, luckily, because I didn't and planted a glossed kiss on my lips. Iggy told us to get a room. "Why don't we skip class and go catch up and what we missed?" Lissa suggested, trying to sound seductive. She kissed my cheek, and I found my eyes wandering towards Max. Unlike most of the class who were talking, Max was quietly sketching.

"Yeah, sure." I replied. I stood up, and Lissa wrapped herself around my right arm, leaning into me as she strutted out of the room with me. We walked through the hallway to the large library. There was a trick to skipping class: don't look like you're skipping. If it's at a lunch period, don't stay in one place they'll notice you for the whole time and if it's not a lunch period, make it look like you a) have free period or b) like you're just going to the washroom, then hide.

People thought we skipped and made out or something, but really, it was mostly just chitchat. That's all Lissa ever did.

"Nicky, I missed you." Lissa cooed. I turned away, lost in thought. I wondered what Max was drawing, when this silly fight would be over and what was for lunch. "Nick?" A moment later, "Nick, what's wrong? You're so distant."

"Sorry, Alyssa." I said, using her real name. I led her to a nook around a little used hallway.

"Nick. What is it?" She asked worriedly, placing herself in front of me and pulling at my shirt collar.

"Look, Lissa. This isn't going to work. We're just... We're not working out. I'm not... I can't date right now." I managed to stumble out, totally out of character. I wanted to be as nice as I could, since she never really did anything wrong.

Lissa didn't say anything, and leant her head down, hiding her face with it. I knew she was trying to hide her tears.

"Sorry Lis. Maybe later." I walked back to class.

...

...

Lissa didn't return to class, but I saw her talking to Dylan at lunch, before they both sat beside Max. Max looked up from her art, then said a few words before abruptly leaving. Lissa immediately left to join her friends. That must have been trouble. I went back to eating my lovely parts of a delicious animal carcass aka Chicken wings, hold the salad, with garlic bread and a cookie. A perfect lunch. Of course I couldn't eat so bad every day. Most day I had the salad too, or chose a healthy option; gotta keep the body in shape.

"Hey, emo loser."

I turned around to see Dip-wad Dylan. "Horse." I said, referencing horses.

"Huh?" Dylan looked confused for a moment. Idiot. He shook his head. "So I heard you were being a jerk to two of the school's most beautiful ladies."Iggy, who had just sat down with his girlfriend, Tessa, stifled a laugh at the sheer cheesiness of what Dylan had said.

"I broke up with Lissa. So what? I wasn't mean about it." I said, continuing to eat. "That makes one girl. You can count, can't you?"

Dylan slammed his palm down onto the formica of the lunch table. "You know what I'm talking about. Max. And you know what you did, you girly guy."

I jumped up. "Shut up, dip shit. Do you really want a fight?"

An dumb grin covered Dylan's face. "Yeah. Yeah I do." He snarled. "Me, you and the football team, behind the school by the old apartment building, three o'clock."

Crud.

...

...

I waited at the predetermined location, the alley behind the school, between there and the fence and abandoned apartment building. I had no idea why it was there. It seemed to be almost a hazard. People skipped class, did drugs, fought and had the occasional party there. But it was fun. Iggy and I and the rest of us had our own room there, from an old studio apartment. We had put on a simple lock, and shoved in some old furniture, making a sort of living room. There wasn't any facilities, naturally, but we kept a few snacks and drinks when we knew we'd be going. There was also a shelf with various knickknacks and books, and to keep out the spiders as much as we could, we had wall papered the walls, and Iggy, J.J. (a friend) and I, the ones not too afraid of spiders, gave it a good cleaning one or twice every two months. We didn't go as much during the winter though, as it was cold as hell. Er, cold as he'll frozen over.

I waited impatiently. I could have just ditched, but it was too late now. I could take on Dylan and two or three football friends with out much issue, but seven members of the team was an unlikely stretch.

All of a sudden, two hands shoved themselves into my back. I stumbled forward a few steps before turning around to see him and six other very bulky looking guys.

"What? No introduction?" I asked before swinging a punch at Dylan. I clipped the side his cheek as he dodged out of my way. Dylan stumbled back, the weakling, and like a hydra, three members pushed forward. They started swinging punches, but the dumb blokes they were, I managed a few well placed kicks, and managed to snap one of their noses with my only punch.

Sadly, my glory moment ended quickly, and the next thing I knew, I was on the ground, out of breath and my chest hurting like heck.

"It's not fair to fight seven-one." Came an annoying voice from above us.

One of the football players feet were about to hit my head at concussion speed, another one about to crash down on my face.

That was when a pair of Doc Martens flew down from the roof.


	6. Everybody Was KUNG FU Fighting

Chapter 6 of I Hate Wonder Woman

(A/N: Sorry it's been so long. School is hard. And I know this chapter is just a banal filler, but bear with me.)

Suddenly, the feet were gone, and I managed to catch a glimpse of two feet, one foot each, hitting my attackers as I jumped up. Max. A pain shot through my chest but I ignored it. Punches and kicks flew for a moment as I caught my breath, panting hard. A few yelps, and things paused for a moment.

I saw one, Will Harnadeck, of them sneak up behind Max, raising a scary looking block of wood above her head. It would be too late; there was no way I could knock it out of his hands in time. Harnadeck began to bring down the piece of wood, a few pieces of the splintered edge falling to the pavement. I ran forward, doing my best to shove Max out of the way. It came down hard, still getting the edge of her head and shoulder. Max reeled back, falling to the ground, eyes closed.

"Jackasses!" I cried, angry. "You could have killed her!"

They started to close in on me arms raising, Dylan directly in front of me. I threw in a few punches and kick, each landing with a satisfying 'oof'. Sadly, I also managed to get a clip in the arm. It was pretty weak from the angle it was thrown at, but it still bit.

Suddenly, there was an opening in the circle, and a hand grabbed my arm, pulling me through the alley. I stumbled along for a moment before getting my feet.

"Run!" Max commanded letting go my arm and sprinting ahead, which must have been awkward in her boots. A few drops of blood were splattering on the cement.

We sprinted for a few minutes before stopping at our parked car. We panted, for a moment before looking up. I was pretty fit, but sprinting for 5 min with, as I just realized, a punch in the gut, was hard.

Max looked up. "You're bleeding, a bit." She lightly brushed her fingers on her cheek to demonstrate where, and she looked very... Pretty, even with blood streaming across the right side of her face.

"You too. I think I have a first aid kit in the trunk until I get you to the hospital." I told her.

Her face paled a bit. "No... I don't need to go."

"You do." I argued. "You were KO'ed."

"Don't say that. And I wasn't."

"You were. I saw you."

"No you didn't. I faked it. It would be hard fighting all of them, and it's not good to fight, it will go on your record. I did that so I could get them off of me and get an opening for for you to escape." Max ran to a garbage bin several feet away and spat some of the blood that was trickling into her mouth out. "Spitting's disgusting."

I opened up the trunk and pulled out the first aid kit. "You first." she sat down on the edge of the opened trunk. I looked at what had happened. Part of the skin behind her ear was scraped and there was a gash on her shoulder, with many slivers in it. It had barely missed her jugular vein, and I realized how close they had come to killing her.

"Max, we need to go to a hospital. I can't clean this out with only a bit of antiseptic and a few bandages. You could need stitches." I told her.

"No." She said.

"Yes. It almost hit the vein. It could have killed you."

"No." She said again, more fiercely.

"Great let's go."

...

...

I waited in my car, cleaning off the blood on the seats. There wasn't much to clean, since I had put a towel down where Max was sitting, but there were a few escaped drops.

My cellphone rang, and I picked it up, seeing that it was not my mom, but Max.

"Hey."

"Hi. I'm done. Where are you parked?" Max asked.

"I'll come get you." I told her.

"Thanks." She sighed tiredly. "I'm at door five."

I pulled out of my parking space and drove to door 5. The sun was completely set now, but it had been since six. It was seven now. My mom had called several times wondering where Max and I were, but I didn't want to deal with a scolding, so I just texted her letting her know we were fine an would be home later.

Iggy had called angry, saying that he and Nudge had to take public transit home. I responded with "First world problem" and a dial tone.

Max stood by the entrance, looking uneasy. She stepped towards the car, then got in.

"Buckle up." I told her driving away.

"Can't." She said tiredly.

"So what happened?" I asked. "Oh, and I have take-out."

"I waited two and a half hours, luckily the hospital wasn't crowded." She said sarcastically. "Then they examined it, asked what happened, cleaned out my cuts. The one behind my ear only needed a bandaid, but they had to pick out slivers of wood from my shoulders. I got four stitches. Three and a half hours later, I'm here."

I handed her a bag with a large order of fries in it. "Here."

"Thanks," She told me gratefully. Max dug in. "I'm so hungry."

The hospital was a slightly linger distance from our home, maybe 30 minutes.

"Am I forgiven?" I asked.

Max pretended to think about it. "...Well, you DID get me French fries..." She paused, mock thoughtfully. "Yes. So is you're face okay? No ER for you?"

"Nope." I did something strange, and popped the 'p'

When we finally reached home, my mom, by some supernatural power, pulled open the door the second we hit the front step.

"Where were you two! I was so worried!" She shouted angrily. Then her eyes fell to my cheek, and she softened. "Oh, Fang! Are you ok?"

"Yeah. I'm fine." I responded, hanging up my coat, as Max flopped down on the couch. Mom obviously hadn't seen the outline of a bulky bandage underneath Max's grey hoodie or the white bandage barely visible behind her hair.

Fierce mom was back again. "Did you get into a fight?"

"No. We -he was attacked." Max explained, not pulling her eyes from an old Simpsons rerun.

"What?" My mom demanded.

"I'm almost 18... Leave it. It's nothing important. I'll deal." My voice hit a dark tone on the last sentence. My mom seemed to pick it up, but amazingly, she let it go.

"Fine," she told me, waving her hand as she strutted out of the room. "I hope you made your own dinner though, we're all out."

"Yeah. We had something."

"One last thing," Mom stopped in the doorway of the kitchen. "Where were you all this time?"

"Uh..." I mumbled.

"The hospital!" Angel chirped in, and until now I hadn't even noticed her sitting at the dining room table coloring. "Lacey said that her big sister saw Max there when she went in for an appointment."

"You guys were in the hospital?" my mom asked incredulously, her face paling slightly.

"Just me. I took a nasty fall into a tree." Max lied.

"Oh! What happened?" Nudge asked.

"I got four stitches on my shoulder."

"Oh, dear!" My mom cried.

Everyone flocked around her, and Max began to look incredibly uncomfortable.

After a few moments, something happened and Gazzy started to argue with Nudge, and then they all started to argue, so Max slipped out and walked upstairs.

I went upstairs too, so I could finish my homework, which Max never seemed to have much of. Opening my math textbook, I was grateful that I didn't have much. I started working my way through, I realized that I needed a ruler, and that Max had borrowed it. I stood up and pushed my desk chair in, an waded through Iggy's dirty clothes to the door. Jeez, he was such a slob.

I knocked in her door. "Ruler?" I asked. I heard the sound bare feet walking across her rug, then the hardwood floor before she opened the door.

"Here." Max said, holding out a ruler. She had tied her hair up into a casual bun and gotten dressed in a pair of black pj shorts and a white singlet. The large bandage on her shoulder stood out.

"Thanks..." I muttered.

"Err...Can you help me out with something?" Max asked, looking embarrassed.

"Sure. What?" I asked.

"Well, I'm probably going to go to bed soon, and I need someone to help me wrap my shoulder. The doctor there said that I need to keep my shoulder stationary so I don't damage it or my stitches." Max held out a tan roll of cloth.

"Sure. Whatever." I deadpanned, hiding the fact that I was, yes, a little but happy that all the anger between us seemed to be gone.

"Thanks." Max smiled thankfully.

Ma explained how to do it, holding her right arm to her side, left arm up, and wrapping it around the right arm and waist several times. When I finished, Max had one arm awkwardly stuck to her side. She thanked me again and told me that there was another week and a half before the stitches came out. Then she told me that wrapping her arm was my job.

"No way. Not for a week and a half." I protested. I didn't really care, but I enjoyed teasing her.

"Too bad." She said, grinning. "I know you don't care."

"Fine," I told her, mocking a sigh. "Goodnight."

Before I left, I flicked her behind the ear, watching her wince were the cut was. She lightly slapped my cheek, over the bandage and shut the door.

...

...

MAX P. O. V

I woke up mid Saturday morning to the sound of television. Somewhere nearby, possibly a neighbors house, someone was vacuuming. I also smelled a delectable scent, and my empty stomach decided to investigate.

Before going downstairs, I caught a look at myself in the mirror. Usually I didn't care what I looked like around the house, but this technically wasn't MY house, and this morning I had a particularly bad case of bedhead from a rough nights sleep. Awkwardly combing it out with my one arm, I noticed my streaks fading. Huh.

After I had it out and detangled I made my way down the stairs to gleefully discover pancakes being fired by Iggy.

"Hey, Iggy." I said.

"Hey," He said not looking up. "You like chocolate chip pancakes?"

"It's the only way to eat them!" I said, in a decent mood.

"No! Maple syrup AND chocolate chips is the only way to eat them." Gazzy corrected, running in, he tried to sneak a finished pancake off a plae, but Iggy swatted his hand away. "Hey! What happened to you're arm?"

I bit my lip as everyone in the room, Gazzy, Iggy, Angel and Nudge turned to look at me. I didn't enjoy being the center of attention. It always made me flustered. "I, er. I hurt my shoulder." I explained quickly.

"How?" Iggy asked, putting the last pancake on the plate.

Sunlight streamed into the kitchen from the windows and seemed to illuminate the pancakes like a message from God.

"Those look so good." I commented sitting down at the kitchen table.

"Max." Angel asked, plopping down beside me. "Did you fall?"

"No. I got a big cut and stitches." I explained. Iggy placed a plate of pancakes in front of us. "Hey, where's everyone else?" I asked.

"Mom had to work, Fang's sleeping." Nudge explained. She took a big bite of the pancakes, which he had slathered in maple syrup and butter. "Ohmigawsh, Iggy. These are so good. They taste like heaven on earth. It's like eating a slightly dense cloud that didn't taste like water but amazing syrupy, buttery, pancakey goodness. Do you think clouds taste like water? Or do they not taste like anything? Can you even taste a cloud? Like, how would you get up there? I guess you could if you had wings, but that is the most ABSURD thing I've ever heard. Like, come on, wings, rea-"

Nudge was cut off when Iggy shoved a mouthful of pancakes in her mouth. "It would be a compliment to my cooking if you would turn off the Nudge Channel, please."

Nudge tried to cough out an indignant answer, but began to choke on her food. No one came to her aide, but a moment later, she stopped coughing and began to gulp down Tropicana. "You... You guy! I almost passed out!" She shouted angrily.

"Then you would have been quiet, and then we would have helped you." Angel replied.

I chuckled quietly. Even though I had been here a week and a half, I loved the mild family chaos and how much they really cared for each other. They seemed to be really close, like the Huxtables in the Cosby show, not at all how it seemed to be in books. I wondered if it was like this everywhere or if I was just lucky.

"Hey," I asked. "Can someone help me take these blasted bandages off?"

"Sure!" Angel said, jumping up. She had already finished her 3 pancakes. She had a big appetite for a nine year old. She gave me a sticky hug, sooo cute, and left sticky hand prints on my bare legs. She looked where the handprints were and blushed a bit. "Just let me wash my hands."

She ran off to the sink just as a bed headed, pj pant clad Fang walked downstairs.

"Morning!" I told him. "We left you a few pancakes, but they're cold."

"Thanks." He mumbled, tousling his hair. He looked really cute that way.

Wait, forget that, now. Now and I'm seriou- whatever.

His dark eyes were sleep-dull, and his hair was adorably mussed. I could see where the bedsheets had pressed into his tanned chest. Any girl would swoon at that. I'm not made of steel, you know.


	7. Comment ideas for next Chapters title

Chapter 7 of I Hate Wonder Woman

(A/N: Ive set up a poll or two for this story, check it out! Also, if any of you guys are on Wattpad, check out my story, FINDING DYLAN, same username.)

MAX POV

"I've never done this before." I told the Martinezes, glancing down the hill. I wasn't really nervous, and it looked fun, so I was really looking forward to this.

"You've never been sledding?" Gazzy, Nudge and Iggy asked incredulously.

I nodded. "Seems sad, though."

"It is Max, by George, it is!" Iggy laughed, putting on a terrible British accent.

"Leave the mimicking for Gazzy, Ig." I said, turning to him.

"Hey!" He shouted mockingly, putting his hands on his hips. "Oh no you didn't!" He did the little head move thing and I was slightly disturbed.

"Oh no, YOU, didn't." Nudge said.

Everyone burst out laughing. Well except for Fang. A silent shaking of his shoulders told me that he was laughing, somewhere deep down in his oh-so-emo facade.

"Which two want to go first and dig the trail?" Iggy asked, holding up the big black sled. There were also a mini snowboard and two one person sleds, but two people had to go down in the black one to make a path for the others.

"I wanna go!" I said, a bit too excitedly for my persona. I calmed down a bit as everyone stared at my unusual outburst. I shrugged. "What? I really want to try sledding."

"Fang should go too." Angel said. "His clothes match the sled, and he's heavy enough to make the trail."

Fang began to protest, but Gazzy interrupted. "Why? You afraid of some sledding?"

"I'm comfortable enough in my manhood not to fall for that." Fang deadpanned, but with a joking tone.

"Well, I don't care, I'm going." I told everyone, sitting down in the sled. I looked down the hill, it was tall, and at the top, I could see the house, about a hundred yards back. I glanced back to see if Mrs. Mom, as I sometimes called Mrs. Martinez, but she didn't seem to be home yet.

Back to the hill.

It was really high, maybe a hundred or two hundred feet top to bottom, but well suited for sledding. It had many curves, steep areas and a ramp, built probably by some other sledders at the bottom. It was all covered in a foot or two of snow, but the area where most of the sledding was done was more compacted, only an inch or three covering it. The climb to get up wasn't too steep, and because there used to be a giant hillside slide, as Gazzy had explained, there were wooden stairs in the hillside, kindly shoveled a bit.

I had put my legs in and grabbed the rope with my left hand, about to push off, when someone sat behind me. It was Fang. His boots came on either side of me.

"It's true. I am so, so important that they need me to trail-blaze." He said jokingly. "you should move to the back of the sled."

I shook my head. "No. I want to see everything."

"You're not going to see much on the first run with all the snow in your face. Its probably best if I go in front too, I can cover my face better."

"Ok." I sighed and went to sit behind him. Fang shuffled to the front, and I sat down in the back, putting my legs at either side of him. He started to push the sled off, and it lurched forward, causing me to involuntarily wrap my arms around him.

I didn't let go. I didn't want to, for some strange reason.

We flew down the hill, slowly at first, then picking up speed. Bits of snow flew around the air coating my face and snow clothes. I laughed a bit as the sled plummeted down the first steep drop which was near vertical and probably ten feet down, leaving a bit of my stomach behind. I was whipped from side to side as we sped around turn after turn, then two more steep drops. Hard snow/ice pellets were now stinging my cheeks. All too soon, it was almost over, and with a final pitch, the sled flee off the ramp. With the high speed Fang and I were sledding at, we were up nearly five feet. I let out another scream, like the ones you do on a roller coaster as I sailed several feet throughout the air. I landed hard into a deep snow bank, and thank God, because it still hurt a little.

The snow around me was taller than I was lying down, so I felt like I was lying down underground. I stayed there a few moments, enjoying how everything sounded muffled before hearing Fang call my name.

"Max?"

I sat up quickly. "I'm here!" I waved.

Fang walked over to me and held out his hand. I grabbed it and pulled myself up. "How was it? You look like a snowman."

"That was epic!" I told him. "And this is probably one of the few time anyone ever sees you not in black."

"Ouch." Fang said. "I'm too hurt to carry the sled up the hill." He handed the toboggan to me, and we began to trek our way up.

A shrill shriek pierced out ears as we saw Nudge shoot off the ramp and careen into the same snowbank I was just in. She was up in record speed and ran over to Fang and I, who were still, slowly, ever so slowly, making our way up the hill.

"Max?" She asked dripping with honey. "Can we switch sleds?" Angel and I want to go!"

"Less work for me." I replied, shrugging. I gave her the toboggan and I took the single sled. She dashed up the hill, and I could hear the thumps of the thin plastic bumping on the steps.

Fang turned to me as we continued to make our way up the hill.

"So... Did you like it?" He asked.

"Yeah. It was fun. I really liked it. But my cheeks hurt now." I told him.

"Me too." Fang agreed, and actually gave me a full smile. (A/N: SWOON!3) My heart melted and I was too shocked to make a joke about it.

"Actually. I'm just plain old really cold." I said dumbly.

"Yeah," Fang remarked, face almost back to it's normal blankness. "You can't sled out long out here. And today is just extra cold. Almost minus forty." (A/N: Back where I used to live in southern Ontario, it got to be negative 35 often. This is farther north, so.)

"What?" I cried shocked. "Really?"

"Yeah. Didn't you get that in Switzerland or whatever?"

"I was there in the summer." I explained, grinning as I noticed that we were almost at the top.

When Fang and I finally got to the top, Iggy immediately ran up to us and stole the blue single sled.

"I guess I'll have to wait alone." I said, shrugging at Fang. "Have fun on the snowboard thing."

I expected him to take off, but he didn't. "It's okay," he told me. "I'll wait with you."

"Okay," I told him, beginning to rub my gloves against my cheeks trying to warm them, but only making them hurt.

Fang noticed me rubbing my cheeks and told me that I was just going to make it worse. "Here," He said, putting his *black* mitten clad hands on my cheeks. "Does this help?" I nodded. "So, do you know how to snowboard at all?"

"No. I can ski, though." I told him.

"Do you want me to teach you?" He asked, still not moving his hands.

"I'll probably end up in the ER and a wheelchair, but sure." I laughed.

I looked up to noticed dark grey clouds in the sky above, not noticing that fat snowflakes had begun to fall quickly.

Apparently, Fang had realized this too. "Actually, we should wait until tomorrow for that. The snow's going to be coming down heavily buy the time we get halfway up the hill again. It's probably best we go inside."

Gazzy had just reached the top with his sled in time to hear that. "What?" He whined. "Really?"

"Yeah, Gaz. Remember last time we sledded in a storm?" Fang asked.

"Okay. Fine." Gazzy sighed in defeat.

Once everyone was up the hill we gathered up the sleds and began to walk home, snow coming down, as Fang predicted, heavily.

"So what happened last time?" I asked Fang as we lagged behind a few feet.

"Oh, well, the sled Angel and Iggy were in ended up crashing, and Iggy sprained his ankle, Angel, her wrist. Also, it took ten times longer to get up the hill." He replied.

"What a speech!" Iggy gasped from ahead. "Above your limit?"

"What?" Fang asked.

"You know, how I always say you're like twitter; you probably have a 140 character limit."

I laughed.

"Shut it." Fang said, unlocking the back door, letting everyone in. "Go make us hot chocolate, Iggy?"

Iggy glared at Fang. "Only because of the lovely maidens."

"Thank you." All of us chimed.

Ten minutes later, we were all sitting on the sofa and fireplace, sipping the most delicious cocoa ever.

"Let's play a game." Gazzy suggested. "I'm bored."

Nudge pretended to think, but I knew she already had a devious game idea. "Let's play truth or dare."

Everyone seemed to agree, except Fang and I who vehemently protested. I didn't want to share any truths.

"Too bad," Iggy said. "Let's go. Angel, you start."

Angel looked a bit caught. "I don't know what to say."

And evil look crosses Nudge's face. She pulled some hair out of her eyes and leaned over, whispering something to Angel.

The same look passed Angel's face. "Okay," she said slowly, drawing out her words. "I dare Fang to kiss Max."


	8. story is over 100 pagesfor a paperback

Chapter 8 Of I Hate Wonder Woman

**(A/N: guys, if you thought that was a cliffy... Oh hell, you guys will HATE me for one of my later ones. You will probably track me down a kill me... Ahem. Yeah, there's already been foreshadowing for that. Also, I know this scenario is overdone, but bear with me. Because of the fact that I have two stories -including this- and I start co-authoring another one, I don't care about the polls, the chapters are probably going to be shorter, but more often. And one word about all your comments about the cliffy: ANTICLIMAX BABIES, muahahaha.**

**Ohgoshohgoshohgosh. I wanna get to the fax NOW. But I cant.**

**In a reply to person22: MARRY ME. I do that but not all the time!•v•**

**Also, Im holding a mini contest. Whoever can guess my plot twist *wink wink*, If there is one, wins a Character to be... Iggy/ nudges/ lissa's/ or someones (even Nick 3) short term boyfriend/girlfriend! To enter, PM me your guesses. If you get it right you must NOT tell anyone. If I get multiple guesses that are correct, I will pick the one closest to the truth. It's open until I say so/ someone guesses! Good luck!)**

MAX

Regrettably, I ALWAYS take my dares, so I shifted to face Fang, who was sitting beside me. The rest of the family sat in the circle, making everything a million times more awkward.

"Uhh..." We both said at the same time.

I began to lean in awkwardly, blushing furiously. He leaned in too, staring directly into my eyes, making me uneasy. I tilted my to the side, a bit, not too sure about how to go about this.

I had never bothered to get a boyfriend or be kissed since I never knew when I would be leaving to move abroad next.

Time was moving slowly, slowly, slowly, dragging on like quicksand through a narrow hourglass. Fang's amazing black hair had fallen into his face a bit, but then again, so had mine. A few beads of water sparkled on his eyelashes from the melting snow still on us. I could feel the line of vision of the rest of the family burning into the back of my head.

I took a deep breath in, but exhaled softly, as not to bother Fang. I stared into his eyes again, and there was something in them I couldn't place. This moment seemed almost remnant of a lucid dream, or at least it was, the way my mind played it out.

Did I want to do this?

Closer and closer our lips came and time slowed down to a slow motion replay of a slow motion video. Finally, or too soon, I wasn't sure, I could feel the brush of his nose skimming mine. Then, our lips only a hairs breadth from touching...

"I'm home!" Cried Mrs. Mom. I had an urge to finish the kiss, but instead, I jumped up, whacking my forehead on his. Luckily Mom would not be able to see that.

"Ow. Ow." I moaned. Fang stood up, while everyone else rushed to go see Mrs. Mom. "You okay?" I asked.

I couldn't see his eyes, but he shook his hair off of his face. "Yeah. I'm fine."

We sat sat on the sofa for a few moments, just staring at our knees, before I stood up. An awkwardness that I had never really felt around Fang lingered in the air between us, thick and nearly tangible.

"Max..." Fang started.

I ran out of the room.

...

...

Now don't go thinking I ran out because I was too awkward around him, because it *mostly* wasn't. It was because a sharp shot of pain swept me and I had to get an aspirin.

I should not have gone sledding with my shoulder. The sudden realization that I could have popped a stitch suddenly came to the front of my mind. I really did not want to go to the hospital again... Maybe I could get Mrs. Mo to fix it for me, if I did.

I could feel a warmth on my shoulder, so I pulled off my Invader Zim tee shirt. I stepped in front of my mirror and angled myself so I could see my shoulder. Sure enough, I could see torn skin where a stitch had been pulled and blood had begun to trickle out. I must not have noticed it from the numbing cold weather. I tore out a few tissues from the box, and shoved them to my arm.

"Max?" Fang asked from outside. Before I could answer, the door began to open, so I grabbed the first thing I could grab and wrapped the towel around my undergarment clad chest. Fang entered and saw me, so he turned his head away.

"What?" I cried, surprised and annoyed.

"I wanted to see if you were okay. Uh, jeez, are you going to going to shower or something? Sorry." Fang sounded slightly flustered.

"I'm fine. Can you get your mom?" I asked hurriedly.

"Sure... Why? Is it lady issues or something. I mean..." I'm pretty sure that I saw traces of a blush on his pallid cheeks.

"Shut up," I told him. "Shut up, Mr. Emotionless. Just shut up before you ruin yourself any further. And no. I popped a stitch sledding."

"Sure."

Back to one word answers. I thought I was making progress.

...

...

"Wow, Mom!" Nudge cooed, fawning over Mom's dress. "Are you going on a date or something?"

I rubbed on my newly stitched shoulder sourly. It really hurt. "Yeah. You look really pretty Mrs. Mom."

"Mrs. Mom?" Valencia chuckled. "Max, that is a new one. Just call me mom."

I grinned but didn't answer.

"So where are you going?" Angel asked.

"I'm going to a party." Mom replied matter-of-factly.

"Without me?" Iggy cried, mock offended.

"Yes." Mom replied. "And you can come, as long as you don't mind hanging out with Liz's daughter Debbie."

"Derpy Debbie?" Iggy groaned. "Never mind."

"Iggy, be quiet or I'll make you come to the cocktail party." Mom warned. It's called a lazy eye, don't be rude."

"Sorry mom." Iggy sighed. "Bye."

"Bye," Mom replied. "Remember, I'll be back tomorrow afternoon; I'm taking a graveyard shift." after she had stitched the ripped part of my arm earlier, she had slept five or six hours.

And with that, she was gone.

"Sooo..." Iggy said slowly, cracking his knuckles by stretching his arms out in front of him. "Angel and Nudge, Olibia and Laura will be here to pick you up any moment now for your sleep over. Gazzy, same with Jackson. For us, a party!"

"What?" I asked. "A party? We're going to a party?"

"Yeah." Fang told me. "I'm not a huge party guy, but the chick who throws them throws the most amazing parties ever."

"That is an understatement, my friend," Iggy told me, lowering his voice. "Have you ever been mud and cold jello wrestling, then jumping into a hottub?"

"I've done some pretty crazy things, but not that. Don't tell me you've ever done that..." I half asked.

"I haven't..." Fang started.

"But I have!" Iggy cried.

Just then, the doorbell rang. "Gazzy. Angel, Nudge!" Fang called. "Come down stairs!"

They all bounded down the stairs together, each with an overnight bag clasped in their eager hands. I opened the door, to see two different people. Both were two women, slightly younger than mom.

"Hi," One of them greeted me with a smile. "You must be the new exchange student, Max. I'm Allison. I'm Jackson's mother, Gazzy's friend." I shook her hand.

"Hello." I said. "Jolly good to meet you." I jammed up the British, realizing that even though my accent was still there and mild, the lingo was already leaving me.

"And I'm, well, I'm also Alison, but I'm the mother of Angel and Nudge's friends, Laura and Olivia. It's nice to meet you too, but you must excuse me or else we'll miss the movie." She smiled hurriedly, and I notice a touch of Brit in her voice. She took Angel and Nudge and let them to her blue minivan.

Allison waited for the taillights to disappear, before leaving with Gazzy.

Once they were gone, Iggy piped up. "Now, prepare yourself, my pretties, for the greatest party of your life!"

"Well, I'm so smoking that I don't even have to get ready." Fang smirked.

"Not in those pjs, you're not." I told him. "I don't even like getting ready, and I've never been to a high-school party before, and I know to spruce up."

I went upstairs to decide what to wear for the party. I didn't really care, but I wanted something good for my large plaster, which mom had put on. Like, I didn't really care too much if it showed, but I didn't want it being tugged on by my clothes. Therefore, I rooted around in my closet and drawers for something to put on. I figured all the people there would make it warm, so I put on a grey tank top, and a slightly loose off the shoulder pale yellow-grey top. I pulled on my black skinny jeans to and vowed to wear my black, hand painted converse high-tops, which I had painted with yellow and blue fabric pens on the way here. Yeah, I was proud of them.

I smudged on some grey eyeliner and a swipe of mascara. I wasn't really a make up person, but I didn't mind eye makeup as much and I sometimes wore it. Then, I tugged a brush through my hair before going downstairs.

Fang had changed into a pair of dark grey pants and wait for it... A black Five Finger Death Punch tee. (A/N: Epic name. I love that band. Just got the new album :D 3). Iggy wore a blue tee shirt that said "Keep calm and party on" and had a picture of a drunk stick man on it. He also wore light grey jeans and had combed his strawberry blonde hair shaggy.

"Hey. You look nice." Fang said. "Ready?" He gave me another short grin when we walked to the car. My heart skipped a beat again.

"Uh... Fang?" I said, feigning worriedness. "I think you have a facial tick."

"What do you mean?" Fang asked, as he opened the door for me, letting me have shotgun, then sitting in the back.

I turned so I could look at him. "Well," I explained frankly. "You're smiling."

Fang fake slapped at me, and Iggy told us to stay still; he was going to be impaired enough at the end of the night.

Fang and I gave a small laugh at that.

"So, whose house are we going to?" I asked. "Have I met them?"

"Yeah." Iggy told me. "Darren Shay and his sister Lacy. Darren's our friend. I think we introduced him to you last week."

"I remember. Brown hair, grey eyes?" I asked.

"Yeah."

This is where the talking stopped, because as we pulled onto the street, the music that we had already hear several roads over became significantly louder. Iggy pulled onto the closest curb he could find, several houses down. He immediately ran towards a girl exiting a car with two others and kissed her.

"Who's that?" I asked.

"His girlfriend, Jennifer." Fang replied. "Let's go?"

We walked toward the front door together in silence. The closer we came, the louder the music got. It was only nine thirty, so I could only guess that the party would get larger. The house in front of us was enormous. It was elegant grey brick, three floors tall, and looked like a mansion. Ivy crawled up part of it, and there were several large windows, giving us a sneak peek at what was inside. There were teenagers everywhere, except for a few places and they were, many of them holding red plastic beer cups. Some were dancing on the marble staircases, too. There also seemed to be dozens of couples making out everywhere.

Fang noticed me shiver from the cold, so he put his hand on my back, a gesture that I normally would have swatted off, and led me inside. As soon as we entered, the scent of teenagers, lust, music and alcohol assaulted my nose in an incredible miasma. It wasn't a bad smell, but it was something I had never heard before.

"Faaaannng!" Slurred a boy, that I believed to be Darren. "Max!" He slapped us on the back, separating us and wrapping his arms around our shoulders. Fang loomed slightly pissed off, but I thought it wad funny. This was all new to me.

"Already drunk, Darren?" Fang asked him.

"Yes. And you... And you will be too!" Darren raised his pitch at the end. "To the keg!"

He led us, staggering through the mob of teenagers, to a large area, with a slightly less population density. The area was mostly grey and white and chrome, so I guessed that it was a fairly modern kitchen. Of course, it wasn't as nice now, and I guessed that it would only get worse. Already, On the counters were crates and crates of six packs, along with some bottles of juice and bottles of assorted alcohols. Jack Daniels, Some sort of rum with a pirate on it, vodka and vodka. Basically, it seemed like several of the party goers had simply raided their parents liquor cabinets and garage fridges. There was a rainbow of colored bottle, colored booze. Darren disappeared somewhere behind a lustful couple, and we followed him. He handed us two cups and opened can of beer, handing them to us.

"Can or cup?" He asked.

"We'll take the can." Fang advised. He turned to the can. "It's always better to chose the can if possible. Never put it down."

I just stared down at the can. Was I really going to do this? Drink at a party. I felt Fang put his arm around my shoulder an lead me out.

Yes, yes I was.

"So, since you're fairly new, do just way to hang with me until you find your way?" Fang asked, taking a sip of his beer.

"Yeah. Sure." I said. "You didn't seem like a drinker."

"I'm not." Fang replied, moving us to a quieter corner. "Just recreationally. And I don't get whacked, like Iggy."

"Huh," I said. I was about to say something when two tipsy girls stumbled between us, giggling.

"Hey, Fang..." One of them asked. She looked like she was one of the cheerleaders. The girl was wearing a very short denim mini skirt a short, flimsy pink camisole and short matching heels. Her hoop earrings looked enough to choke someone with. Her blond hair was messy, probably from crazy dancing.

The other one seemed way more inebriated. She was swaying on her two and a half inch heels. (A/N: to all those people who write 'in her ten inch stripper heels', that's not possible) and stumbling. I realized that this was Lissa. She was dressed less sluttily, but she was still in a short green dress that clashed with her waist length red hair.

"Fannggg," She slurred. "I love you. So much. I miss you!" She screamed, then burst into tears. "Why did we break up? Why... Won't you?" She looked down or her empty beer cup. "I'm out... I'm out of booze. Bye!" She stumbled off cackling like a hyena.

"That was weird..." I said, staring after her. I took a tentative sip of my own drink. It wasn't great, but wasn't too bad.

"She has a very low alcohol tolerance." Fang explained shortly, wiping his hand on his pants where she had touched him.

How many parties had they gone to together?

Iggy ran up to us, Jennifer in tow. She was pretty, really pretty, but in an academic type way. She had straight, light brown hair that fell just below her shoulders. She had hazel-green eyes and a few freckles on her nose and oval face.

"Max. This is Jenny." Iggy introduced, with his arm around his waist. "Let's go to the garage. They're playing pong. Beer pong."

I followed Fang, Iggy and Jennifer to where I assumed the garage was. I jogged a bit to catch up with them. "What is beer pong?" I asked.

Jennifer looked at me and smiled. "Either very fun or very gross. Just wait and see Max."

The garage was packed full of people, all surrounding a table where a guy and a girl were half filling triangular clusters of red plastic cups with beer.

"Hey!" One of the guys shouted. "It's the newbie! Max!"

"Max!" Came a chorus of cries. Several people began swarm me, until Iggy shouted.

"Let's begin!" He cried! "Tonight, we will have our reigning Champion of BP, Dylan, playing one of you!"

The room, almost packed full of people cheered. Jennifer leaned over to me. "So, the way we play here, is that two people face each other. They take turns tossing a ping pong ball into the other persons cup. It it lands in a cup, they move the cup to the side, then re-throw the ball. This goes on until someone misses. Then, both teams drink the cups at the side. It goes on until all of one persons cups are all empty, or someone barfs, which isn't often." She pointed to the garbages on each side of the table. We couldn't see really well, so Fang, Jennifer and I made our way to the front ring of the crowd.

"Who would like to defend the champion?" Iggy cried.

"Hey, Iggy! You do it!" a guy shouted from the back.

"Yeah! Iggy!" People were yelling. "Iggy!"

After several playful shoves, Iggy made his way into the middle, and Darren took over Iggy's place. "Ready? Go!"

Iggy grabbed a ping pong ball and bounced it onto one of Dylan cups. Dylan lobbed it into one of Iggy's. That repeated itself until Iggy missed one, leaving Dylan to drink three and Iggy four. They both chugged down their glasses. Again and again this happened until finally, three rounds and ten glasses in, Iggy was losing miserably. Dylan had only drank half of that. Iggy's face grew ashen as he gulped down his eleventh cup.

"Watch out!" Someone shouted. "He's gonna spew!"

Instinctively, everyone, not just the people near him jumped back as Iggy stumbled to garbage and unleashed a torrent of foul vomit. I stepped back in disgust, and noticed Jennifer looking nauseous. I grabbed her by the arm and led her out of the room. Fang followed me out soon after.

"You okay?" I asked her.

She nodded weakly. "I just can't stand barf. Weak stomach." She took another sip of her drink. "You're Max, right? I'm Jennifer Joy. Call me JJ. Nice to meet you!" She smiled at me, and a group of girls waved at her, so se jogged over with a backhand wave.

I drank some more as Fang and I made our way outside, where I saw several people filling up an inflatable pool. Not one of those little kiddy ones, but one of the medium above-ground ones that is a few feet deep and eight feet wide. They were filling it with dirt from bags and what looked like jello, and water.

"Parties are more fun when you know more people, right?" Fang asked.

"Yep. But I know them, I guess. They're just not friends." I replied, throwing my empty can somewhere on the ground.

"You want another one?" Fang asked.

I said no thanks. "So, why are you so l depressed or whatever?" I asked.

"I'm not." Fang replied, nonchalantly.

"But you wear all black, it's like a uniform." I shot back, annoyed that he wasn't going to talk enough to explain.

"I like black."

"Fine." If he was going to play the few word game, so was I. I grabbed his drink and took a frustrated sip.

"Who was Ella?"

I choked on my drink and began to cough. After a moment, with Fang whacking my back, I collected myself enough to respond. That was an extremely unexpected question. "She was my sister." I replied.

"Was?" Fang asked.

"Was." I confirmed. Then I got up and walked to the growing crowd around the pool.


	9. Danger, Danger Party Murder

Chapter 9 of I Hate Wonder Woman

(A/N: sorry about the long wait and the shortness. That's how it is when I'm watching Asian dramas. :3 1 Liter of Tears is sad... Especially when they show pics of the real girl. :'[ Should I watch LIFE or You're Beautiful next? I'm thinking LIFE because I liked the manga, but I can't find it anywhere any recommendations for Sad/funny?.)

I leaned over the pool, filled four feet deep with mud, grinning amusedly. Flecks of mud splattered on my shirt as two dudes were wrestling. This was really strange, and I was thirsty.

I looked over at Fang and Iggy. Fang just looked like Fang, and Iggy was staring impishly. Judging by how little time I had known him, and the fact that I already realized this, that was not good. Something would probably end up exploding of catching on fire, and I did not want to see that. I attracted enough trouble as it was. It was like I somehow had a trouble magnetism or had a bright, blinking sign advertising all the jerks to come piss me off.

With a grunt, one of them disappeared under the mud. I yawned. It was ten thirty, and I was bored. Really bored. And thirsty. And bored. And maybe a little tipsy. But not really.

I wasn't going to get hammered, like Iggy, that definitely wasn't my scene. But I was still thirsty, so I went to the kitchen to find myself a drink.

I went in the back door and was shocked. The parties size had really grown, even though that seemed impossible. Damn, tree were teenagers everywhere. Everywhere. They were grinding and dancing by the pool-side, by the speakers, some dancing in the water. Even this 'early' there were a few scattered 'peers' passed out on the lawn. I turned one of them over gingerly, because they seemed in danger of, ahem, choking in their 'expulsion' (re: puddle o' puke). Inside wasn't much better. It was practically a mosh pit, but with mainstream music, which I wasn't a huge fan of. I preferred alternative or rock. Some indie. And Nirvana. But I wasn't like Fang, with his heavy, screaming, grinding, rip-my-heart-out-and-take-a-bite music (A/N: BEST. EVAR. max is second to fang in music.) or Iggy's, rap, all sex, drugs and money. Besides that, there were people smoking, drinking, yelling and fighting. Pure chaos. And I don't want to think of the shady dealings and sniffing and 'cuddling', to be polite, going on behind the many closed doors of this mansion.

On my way to the kitchen, I meritied quite a few glares as I shoved my way through many couples grinding on each other. Yuck. When I finally got to the kitchen, Lord of the Rings worthy, the place was filled with a handful of stoned juniors and seniors, smoking and making out. I turned away, and shuffled around for some juice. When I couldn't find any, I began to rummage in the fridge for some soda.

"Hey," Came A husky voice from behind me that I vaguely recognized. "Looking for something?"

"Yeah." I snapped. "A drink. Piss off." I slammed the refrigerator door shut and wheeled around. It was one of the football players that had attacked us a few days ago, Michael something or other.

"No." Michael slurred. I knew he was drunk, and quite so. The smell of liquor, not just beer radiated off him and he was swaying on his feet. "Wanna...wanna dance?" There was a malicious undertone to his voice.

I heard the strains of music, not my type, and neuter was Michael. He even smelled of trouble. "No. No thanks. Now buh-bye." I started to turn to go out and find Fang and Iggy, when he grabbed my arm.

"Tease." He spat angrily. "Come here."

I struggled against his arms and he dragged my towards the stairs. I tried to fight him off, but my shoulder injury made it hard and I didn't want to rip more stitches.

Michael began to drag me up the modern metal and wood staircase, the rest of the party completely oblivious in their blissful, drunk bubbles. Midway up the stairs that led straight to the third floor, Michael shoved me hard against the railing, hurting my back and moved closer to my face. His whiskey tinged breath was damp and terrible. He pushed me farther against the railing, and I had to work my feet and hands between the bars just not to fall off. He tried to shove his face onto mine, but I turned my head away.

He grabbed my cheeks hard with his beefy hands and whipped my head to face him. That was probably going to leave at least a small bruise. "Listen up," Michael growled. "Don't do that again, bitch." My blood reached boiling point. No one, but no one called me that. Michael tried to move in again, to shove his kiss me, but I realized that I was close enough, and I gave him a hard knee right in his english tea bags.

"Bitc-" He screamed as I ran up the stairs. I didn't look back to see him, but he was probably on his knees in pain. Judging by the stream of swears barely audible over the music, I was probably right. When I finally reached the top of the long stairway, I looked around for a place to go. Damn, the place was huge. There was a long hall, and it looked like another hall branching off of it. Several doors also lined the corridor. It was a lot more quiet up stairs, as we were two stories from the party. I had no idea where floor two was.

I took a few cautious steps forward, looking for a door to enter that didn't seem occupied. I heard heavy footsteps behind me and wheeled around.

Crap. It was Michael.

"I'm gonna get you, whore." He growled.

I chuckled as I took off at a run down the hall. That sounded so cheesy. I rounded the corner, to find a dead end balcony only ten feet ahead. Crud. There were two doors in this part. One had loud noises coming from it, didn't want to know, and was locked. I tried the other door. It was simply a linen closet, filled with towels. Where could I go? I checked to see if there was room to fit me, but it was too late.

Someone grabbed my arm and yanked me backwards. 'Ouch' I thought. 'That smarts!' On the outside though, I only let out a small yelp, which made him grin.

"Screw off!" I screamed. "Jerk!"

"What did you call me?" He snarled, stepping closer and cracking his knuckles. That was only fuel to the fire.

"I called you an asshole, dick!" I shouted. I stepped closer to him also. I was ready to fight. I don't care how many stitches it ripped out. This jerk was going down.

"You're dead now." Michael whispered murderously. He lunged at me, but I had anticipated it and dodged him with the fluid ease of a swimming eel. Again, he went at me, this time with his fist. Again, I dodged him. No one seemed to have noticed our duel yet. I swung at him with my good arm, and it hit him square in the jaw. Shock reverberated through my arm, and I paused to shake it out; otherwise it would be useless. This time Michael got lucky, he didn't hit my though. Instead, he grabbed me, pinning my arms effectively behind me. He was a pretty good fighter for a knocked-down drunken kid. As he shoved me forward, onto the balcony, I could feel my stitches tugging at my skin. Michael threw me stomach first against the rail and I held on tightly. "You're going to pay, you skank." He growled throatily. I heard a clicking noise, and then a second later, something cool and thin was against the back of my neck! It dawned on me.

Holy crap! It was a knife. This unko tare was actually serious! Unable to stop myself, I had to let out a scathing remark in Thai, which was considered the worst of the worst. "Sa'wa". I muttered.

"What did you call me?" He shouted, obviously assuming it was bad. Which it was.

"I called you worthless scum, you window washer," I spat, switching to British. "Sod you!". Of course, this probably would be very offensive, even more so to any brits nearby.

Michael didn't even respond, just dug the knife a bit into The back of my neck. It wasn't enough to draw blood, luckily. "Apologize." He ordered.

"No." I replied. A small crowd had gathered at the balcony 30 feet down. What a distance. It was really high. Some people were looking up worriedly, others just laughing, thats how drunk they were. I was desperately trying to distract myself, when I felt the cool bite of the blade in my skin. I bit my lip. This ass-hat was really going to kill me! I felt blood, and heard him laugh sadistically. I felt it begin to press down on my neck again. Before he could do more damage, I had to make a split second decision before he dug to deep of hit a vein/artery.

If I did this move, there were two ways I could easily die or seriously injure myself, one way to survive.

Okay. Two to one... But that was better than my other odds.

I kicked my feet outwards, hitting him in the stomach hard enough to make him hit the wall. Sadly, with the momentum, I swung over the rail. I dangled, helplessly thirty feet above the ground.

I was attempting to pull myself over the ledge to safety, but Michael stood up. Ohno. Oh no. He placed the knife on my fingers and began to saw!

"Max!" Cried several voices! "Just drop!"

What the-? I swiveled my head to see Fang, Darren and Iggy, holding their arms in a makeshift platform.

What choice did I have? I dropped.


	10. Short chapter

Chapter 10 of I Hate Wonder Woman

(A/N: Don't forget about the plot twist contest! MESSAGE me for your guess and of it is right, you win! Sorry it's so short but I felt like I needed to update.)

Time slowed down again, dripping like wax, moving like I was running in quicksand. Like the sands of time had stopped. As if a turtle was running. Like putting a PVR on slow-motion.

Okay. The poeticness ended there. I know you guys really want to know what becomes of me. Do I live? Die? Become a paraplegic?

...But of course, you know what happens; the author can't kill off the main character... But that's just denial. I really die, you knew that. I'm dead. In fact, you're dead too.

Inception.

Okay... I'll let you guys stop hanging on the edge of your seats now.

Or not.

Have you ever started eating something really good that was a treat, then get satisfied, then full, then fuller, then nauseatingly full, and know that you ate too much, but kept eating? Have you ever thrown up from it before?

I have, once. It wasn't pleasant. For me or any parties involved.

But that's how I felt now. It started out fine. Then things started to get bad, and it wasn't my fault. Then, it got worse and worse, because I couldn't control myself.

Yeah.

Lovely metaphor right?

Okay. I'll let you guys relax now.

In a second it was over.

All over.

Everything that was happening ended.

Everything went black...

...totally black...

...because I closed my eyes in terror.

With a giant oomph, I landed on Iggy, Fang and Darren, bringing them all to the ground underneath me. I cried out as I landed quite awkwardly, but I felt much worse for my three saviors. I was light for my height, five foot eight and 117 lbs., but still, I fell from three stories high. Before standing up, I collected my breath for a second, and did my best to lurch myself off of them. At this point, the spell of everyone watching in astounded silence was broken. People rushed in like a flood to grab us. For me, it was mostly guys, which I wasn't super happy about but didn't really care, and Fang was mostly girls. Why-? A thorn of jealousy hit me. But why would i be jealous? He stood up chivalrously, and poor Iggy and Darren were ignored by everyone but their respective girl friends.

I started off to see Iggy and Darren, but I almost collapsed when I stepped on my ankle wrong. Again, a throng of guys rushed forward.

"Are you okay Max?" One of them asked.

"Yeah. I'm fine. Whatever." I replied, brushing them off and shoving them away. My fingers touched the back of my neck, sending a stinging sensation through me. The wounds were bleeding a good amount, but not an arterial flow. They didn't seem deep enough to warrant medical care or stitches, just a good cleaning and bandages. Fun. I would have to stop the bleeding though.

"I called the police, Max!". Said anoter person, this one a girl, who was clutching a phone in her hand. There were both groans and cheers. No one wanted the party to get busted, I guess, but no one wanted the creep to get away either.

Sure enough, on cue the beginning notes of sirens pierced the air. At this point, I realized that the music had stopped, and people were floodig out, the crowd beginning to dissipate. I guessed that everyone here could get in big trouble, as there was underage drinking going on and people smoking pot. I separated from my slowly shrinking crowd and limped over to Iggy and Darren.

Iggy, who seemed to have sobered up some from the accident winced at me, as if his hangover had already begun. "We need to go. Now." He told me. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I told him. I tore off my shirt, leaving me in my tank top, and wrapped it around my neck. "I mean, I might have twisted my ankle, but only maybe. And the cuts will only need a bandaid or two."

"What cuts?" Fang asked, appearing beside me without any forewarning. How did he always do that? I had great hearing!

"He cut my neck. Thats why I had to jump." I explained.

"So he was really serious about killing you?" J.J. asked, terrified.

"Yeah. Why else would I jump off a balcony three stories up?" I said shortly. I didn't mean to be rude, but I was in pain. "Sorry." I added.

"It's okay." She told me. "but you guys really should leave I'm the driver, so bye." The police sirens were getting louder and louder. They'd be here any second. J.J dashed off to a small crowd of people.

I looked to Fang and Iggy. "Are you guys okay?"

"Completely." Fang said.

"Well, my arm hurts some," Iggy replied. " Probably your fault. But I'm fine."

I shrugged apologetically. "I can't walk right now. My ankle hurts. Of course, it'll be better soon, but right now it bites."

"I'll help you out." Fang said softly. "But we'll have to take a detour. The police will be here in less than a minute."

"And if they see us, we're in trouble." Iggy finished. "Let's go."

Fang took ahold of my hand, and wrapped it around his shoulders. I leaned onto him a bit so I could balance myself better. By this time, the police lights were in the drive way, but luckily, we wouldn't be noticed. "Hold on tight." Fang joked as he wrapped his arm around my waist and we took off. The three of us hobbled as fast as we could towards the car. We slipped in after a few minutes of awkward dashing, and drove off in the opposite direction of our house because that's were the police were coming from.

We drove in silence for a few moments as Fang drove to a road that would lead us home. Then I realized it was silent. As in Iggy wasn't talking. Which was less unusual than Nudge not talking, but still strange. I turned around to check on him. He was splayed across the back seat but still buckled in, passed out cold. I stifled a small laugh.

"Fang?" I asked at a red light. He looked at me. "Can we leave him in the car overnight?"

Fang gave another small grin. "Sure. I mean, he would probably get hypothermia, but whatever, right?"

"No!" I shouted, playfully hitting my arm. "That's not okay. I don't want him dea-. Hurt. I don't want him hurt." I turned to loom out the window.

FANG:

I stared at Max from the corners of my eyes when I could. What had that been about? She was joking around, then she was like that. Just staring, glassy eyed into space. I wondered what was wrong.

Until she snapped out of it a few moments later, I pondered about her. She seemed open, but like a box of mysteries wrapped into one. Quite the paradox.

When she said that she had a sister, had seeming to be the operative word. And then having a hard time joking about Iggy dying... And didn't she mention something about someone dying earlier last week, when I was sleep delirious.

Then it clicked. How could I have been so stupid.

Her sister had died.

I noticed that Max had finally resurfaced about ten minutes from home. Snow flurries were beginning to corkscrew down from the pitch black sky, invisible except for when my headlights shone on them. I heard a soft sound beside me. I looked over to see Max, rubbing her hands up and down her arms shivering softly lips slightly blue tinged. Her breaths were slightly shaky.

"You okay?" I asked her.

"Y-y-yeah." She said. " I'm just c-cold. I forgot that I didn't bring a coat. And I kinda spent fifteen minutes out in the cold."

"Do you want me to turn the heat up? Were almost home." I asked.

There was a snort from the back seat and the and Iggy rolled over. I prayed that he wasn't going to puke on the car. We had saved up for ages to buy our half of it.

"Don't, please." Max asked. "It's numbing my wounds. I need to bandage my boo-boos."

"Max," I asked. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yeah." She replied as we pulled into the driveway. "I'm good."

I pulled the keys out of the ignition and opened the door, hooking my arms under Iggy's and dragging him out. The door slammed at the other side of the car, and Max exited, grabbing Iggy's legs and helping me hoist him up the front steps.

"I was really worried tonight." I told Max. "I thought you were going to die."

"I'm fine." Max replied tersely. "Thanks."

"But you could have died." I pressed.

"Well, I didn't."

"You really don't care?" I asked, annoyed.

"Sure. I'm glad you're worried." Max dropped Iggy's legs and they hit the icy cement with a dull thud. That was going the hurt tomorrow. "Give me the keys."

I shrugged, gesturing that my hands were full, so she pulled them out of my pocket and walked upstairs.

Gosh, what was with women?


	11. THE IRONY AT THE END

(A/N: to Cassie... I told you about this... But you found it by accident... Lol. Wow. No. You can call me Chloe.:D And the plot contest! Enter or whatever. Don't you want to be in my *not* awesome story? And check Chapter 1, it should be reedited soon. And I'm thinking of doing a horror story after this. What do you think?)

MAX

Well that was just lovely.

There you go, me freaking out and getting all awkward over the smallest amount of care.

I can be a turd can't I? Well, emotions are not me forte. Mr. EmotionlessRock probably has an easier time with them than I do. I mean, sure he can't emote them, per se, but I have a hard time even feeling half of them.

Well, either way, I wasn't going to obsess over it like a girly girl. I had more important things to tend to. Like several wounds.

I looked in the bathroom mirror, assessing my injuries. Downstairs, I could hear Fang shuffling around with Iggy, then several awkward bangs as he apparently dragged Iggy up the stairs. Upstairs, I used two mirrors so I could get a view of the back of my neck by using the handheld mirror to see backwards into the wall mirror It is awkward to describe. After noting that there were maybe six thin cuts, not that deep or long, mostly just broken skin. They were all clumped together, so I opened the first aid kit and kist took out one patch bandage. I cleaned my neck up the best I could, then put the oversized plaster on. After a quick examination, my stitched and everything seemed to be fine.

Something dragged past my doorway, then I heard a knock. I reached out to open the door, when the world swam and twisted around me. My hand missed the door by a good two inches and I lurched forward, managing to stop myself from falling by slamming my hand onto the seafoam blue-green wall beside me with a thud. The world still swayed until I had rested my head on the door a moment. What was that?

"Max?" Came Fang's deep voice.

I began to lift and head and open my mouth to respond, but the second I did, I became dizzy again. No words would come out of my mouth.

"Max?" Fang asked again. "Are you okay in there?"

I nodded weakly, but realized that he couldn't see me. "I'm fine." I managed to say without getting in.

"Can I come in? I need to borrow a washcloth."

"Sure." I shifted over enough so that I wasn't blocking the doorway, but was still leaning, face smushed on the wall.

Fang came in, and I saw Iggy lying on the floor, something dribbling out of his mouth. Spit up, probably. I turned my head to look at Fang rummage through the medicine cabinet. My dizzy spell seemed to be gone, but it had been replaced by an intense exhaustion settling over me like a blanket. I could feel my eyes drooping and I tried to keep them open.

"What hapened?" Fang asked, taking out a yellow washcloth and dampening it under the tap.

"I don't know. I just got really dizzy all of a sudden when I went to open the door. Like the world spun. Maybe I got drunk or something. But I don't think so. Maybe it's because I'm sleepy AND tipsy" I said slowly, my words drawn out by my sleepiness.

Fang gave me a glance, then went on to wipe off Iggy. He dabbed off his face, barely showing disgust, something I would have done. "You should go to bed." Fang told me after cleaning up Iggy's face. He rinsed out the cloth and threw it on the laundry hamper.

I had barely realized I was there the past few minutes. No register. It felt like I was floating.

"Night, Max." Fang said, then used Iggy's limp arm to wave. I giggled as they disappeared into their room. I stayed in the loo for another few minutes with my head resting on the doorframe before I realized I had something very important to say to Fang. I shuffled the short distance to the door and knocked, the door swinging open. "Fang?"

Fang looked at me from where he was standing, wearing his pajama pants and midway through pulling off his smelly party shirt. Iggy lay on the far bed. "Yes?"

"I, Uhhh..." I started. "I had something really, really important to say, but I've forgotten. Well, goodnight." I grinned dopily at him. Again, I felt really, super duper tired, and all the clothes and stuff piled by the door looked really inviting. "I'm going to sleep here, Fang." Sliding my feet out in front of me, I glided down the doorway.

"Max." Fang said sternly, as if speaking to a young child. "You need to go to bed."

"But I am, mon ami." I replied dreamily, eyes closed, almost falling asleep. These clothes were so soft.

"Max." Why was he so mad at me? I was kinda angry at him, and was about to snap at him when I realized something. He was like a dad. A dad I never really had. Oh gosh, now I was sad.

"Fang..." I croaked. "Don't be mad at me please. You're too nice! You're like the daddy I never had... But you're not!" Now I was off the verge of tears. "You're me bestest friend, in the whole world. And I don't have so many friends. Am I your best friend? I don't want to leave you, so I'm sleeping here."

I rolled over to face Fang and saw him rolling his eyes. "Fine." He sighed, sounding exasperated and slightly amused. "Come here at least. You can have the bed. I'll take the floor. Can you at least put PJs on?"

"I don't need the floor. Or pjs. I'm already asleep."

And a second later, I was.

...

I woke up with sun impressing on my eyelids and the sounds heavy breathing nearby. Why were there people sleeping in my room? I rolled over and my hand flopped off the edge of bed, hitting something kinda kind of wiry. It was someones hair. Who was that? I sat up abruptly, making my head hurt a little bit, but I took it that I probably drank a but more than I thought on my first party.

Wait one second... This wasn't my room. Or my bed. And a person was on the floor.

And then the disorientation went away and I remembered what happened. I had gone to sleep in Fang and Iggy's room the night before. Of course that didn't explain why I was in Fang's bed. He must have carried me here. 'How sweet.' I thought dreamily. I looked over to see exactly what my hand was touching to look at the sleeping figure belonging to Fang. He was so cute when he slept... In like a little kid way I mean.

Fang was lying on top of a few blankets, head on a pillow, an extra blanket on top of him. He was wearing dark plaid flannel PJ pants and a black band tee -some group with a name that I sort of recognized, Bullet For My Valentine. He was facing towards me, on his side, arms and legs overlapping. His face was more open, his long, lamp-black hair tumbling on his face. One lock in particular fell onto a peacefully sleeping eyelid.

I nibbled my lip slightly and my hand reached out. I hovered over his smooth olive skin for a moment, then touched his skin lightly, light as a feather, the waited to see if he stirred. When he didn't, I slowly and gently brushed it away. My hand rested for a moment, and I felt him begin to move slightly. I froze, prepared to pretend to be asleep, my hand only touching in a fit of restless sleep. He settled down again, this time lying on his back, but his hand came up and wrapped around mine. Somewhat regrettably, my mind brushed it off as a natural sleep instinct, but part of me didn't.

We stayed there a few moments until a lovely smell filled my nostrils, and I had to break out of daze. Lucky for me, I still seemed to be in my clothes from yesterday, except that someone had thrown an oversized t-shirt over my tank top. Judging by the colour, I was guessing that it was owned by the black loving Fang. I stepped gingerly out of bed, making sure not to tread on Fang on my way out. Because I found my skinny jeans uncomfortable, and I wanted to get downstairs as soon as possible, I decided to rummage around in the drawers nearest Fang's bed for some pants to put on. The first things I grabbed were some dark blue sweats with a drawstring. I tugged off my pants and pulled these on, pulling and tying the drawstring as tight as it would go, and even then, it was still slightly loose.

I left the room and went downstairs to see Iggy cooking somethings on the stovetop.

"What's this?" I asked.

"Not so loud?" Iggy hissed, turning around. He looked like crap, his morning hair messier than usual, his eyes pink with dark circles. "I'm making a hangover breakfast. Need some or want some?"

"Want some." I replied, sitting down at the table.

A few moments later, Iggy set down a large plate, a small plate, a bowl and two glasses with a flourish. "The Hangover Special, Bon appetite." Iggy said. Everything was in fairly small portions. On the large plate there was a portion of scrambled eggs, a sausage, hash browns and half a thick buttered, whole grain english muffin and raspberry jam, on the second plate there was a half of a pink grapefruit dusted with icing sugar and in the bowl, blueberry oatmeal and maple syrup. In the two glasses, there was a purple fruit Smoothie in one and orange juice in the other.

"Wow!" I said, already beginning to dig in. "Thanks!"

"No problem." Iggy replied, sitting down two chairs across from me. "It's specially formulated to help relieve a hangover. I did a project on it last year."

"Did you get in trouble?" I asked after I had finished the eggs and sausage and had begun to squirt a red stream of ketchup on the hash browns.

"Nah. Im pretty sure the judge was suffering from a hangover."

"I'm going to be drinking age soon." I said, taking a sip of the Smoothie. "Oh my gosh, your food is bloody amazing. This should totally go on the Leslie's Breakfast menu." Leslie's breakfast was a worldwide breakfast chain that my dad owned. And I was serious. I was going to call my dad today and ask him to put this on the menu. I tried to think of a good name... Perhaps 'Iggy's Morning After Special'. It needed work, but that would be a great birthday gift.

"Thanks, and so will Fang and I." Iggy said, brushing me off.

"No." I protested. "Really soon. Like in two weeks."

"That soon? Wow?"

After that, Iggy and I ate in silence until I heard the sound of bare feet padding down the stairs.

"Morning," Fang mumbled helping himself to the food. "Thanks, Igs." he sat down across from me and began to shovel the food down his throat.

"Hey." I said, taking the last bite of oatmeal. "Uh... Thanks for the bed. How did you sleep?"

"Fine actually." Fang replied with a full mouth.

"Fang can sleep through pretty much anything if he wants to. Probably even an earthquake."

I chuckled. "Jeez. So I could like, burn the house down around you, Fang?"

"No. But you sleep like a baby. You are so adorable asleep." Fang smirked. "You sleep pretty heavy too. You didn't even stir when I carried you into the bed last night."

I blushed. So that was how I got there! I should have expected that. "Thanks again. And... Uh... Sorry for me being kind of weird last night." I stood up and put my dishes in the dishwasher, then washed my hands. "When are Nudge and Angel and Gazzy coming home?"

"In a few hours." Iggy told me.

"I'm going to go shower. So don't use the loo." I said. I felt all yucky from yesterday night and my skin felt so greasy for some reason. It was as if someone had pumped every pore with some viscous liquid and it felt nasty. There was nothing I wanted more at this moment than to just shower.

I exited the kitchen and grabbed a towel from the linen closet, this one was light blue and incredibly fluffy. I rubbed it against my face for a moment before stepping into the washroom. Pulling back the opaque white shower curtain, I noticed there was no soap, so I went to my bedroom to grab some of the stuff I had brought from England. This stuff was really good, because my dad had gotten it for my birthday, specially made from one of the best soapmaking company in the northern hemisphere. It was amazing. It didn't dry out your skin, and smelled just like roasted almonds and vanilla, full of goats milk and other herbs. Even a person like me could appreciate it.

My fingers twisted in a lock of my hair on my way out, and it felt really knotty and gritty, so I grabbed some shampoo by the same person, too.

In the bathroom, I turned on the knob to hot water and stepped in, letting the feel of hot water reclaim me from my still drowsy state and drag me to the fantabulous world called Shower. The soap and shampoo made the bathroom smell like a fantastical atmosphere, a realm that had yet to be tainted by human hands. This was heaven.

So imagine my despair as the hot water became warm water and the warm water became neutral and the neutral became lukewarm, and I realized that it soon would become cold, and I was forced to step out. When the first streams of cold hit my exposed arms, I quickly turned off the shower and stepped out. The cold hit me like a wall. It felt like the arctic.

I grabbed the towel and turned off the fan, hoping for relief from the cold to no avail. I wrapped myself tightly in the towel and stepped out into the hallway, then my room, where I tugged on my underclothes and pulled back on the PJs I borrowed from Fang. I towel dried my hair and combed it through before returning downstairs ad turning on the television. Fang and Iggy were just finishing up and then proceeded to sit next to me,

Fang on the couch with my, and Iggy splaying out on the loveseat, not bothering to turn on the lights.

What was I in the mood for today? I quickly settled on horror, and found a movie that was starting in two minutes.

"You guys okay with this?" I asked. "It's called The Ward."

"Yeah..." Fang said. "I love horror."

"Me too." I told him, then we steeled down to watch the movie.

...

Shortly after the movie ended, Iggy was asleep again, Fang and I were still just sitting together, channel surfing, the door chime pinged.

"Were home!" Cried Angel.

I turned around to see her and Nudge. "Hi, Nudge, hi Angel." I greeted.

Nudge waved at me.

"How was it, Nudge?" I asked.

Nudge smiled and gave me a thumbs up.

"Why aren't you talking Nudge?" Fang asked, resting his chin and arms on the back of the sofa.

"Laryngitis." She rasped, her voice cracking. "My voice is gone."

We all burst out laughing.

Nudge not talking?

(A/N: I know the ending is boring, but I decided to spare you the cliffy.)


	12. Finally!

**(A/N: this is really short, and took a long time to upload, but forgive me. I am on break and am finally relaxing and it has done so much for me. I feel so much better now. Things will start picking up soon. I'll start throwing In the good stuff too. But updates may be every few weeks soon, because I have exams and personal stuff.)**

FANG POV

On Monday, the four of us, Max, Iggy, Nudge, who sounded like a pubescent boy from her laryngitis, and I walked into school, heading straight for the cafeteria to get our new schedules. It was the first day of the new semester, even though last semester's exams are next week.

We went into the caf, which were lines with tables with cutout letters pasted on them. We were supposed to go to the table with the letter of our last name, so that they could give us our schedules.

Iggy, Nudge and I joined the 'M-O' line, while Max joined the 'Q, R' line.

Five minutes later, we regrouped and look over our schedules.

"Dang, man," Iggy groaned. "We don't have the same lunch. But I share wit Nudge and you share with Max."

"I share art with you, Iggy and Fang, and Photography with you Fang. First two periods. Then I have lunch and two spares." Max shared.

I wasn't paying attention, just staring down at my schedule in horror. "Shit."

"What's up?" Iggy asked.

I showed him my schedule.

"That does suck." Iggy empathized.

"What's wrong?" Max asked.

"I have ." I moaned, an unusual occurrence.

"What's so bad about that?" Max asked.

"Mrs. Dwyer is this teacher who obviously has the hots for Fang." Iggy explained for me. "And it's actually really creepy."

Nudge nods in agreement.

Iggy continues. "And she makes him call her Brigid and always leans really far over his desk and splays her boobs everywhere around him and asks him to stay after classes. It's crazy. Totally predator."

Max looked angry for a moment, like jealously, but it passes so quickly, I doubted that it even happened. "That's really creepy." Max finally agreed.

"Hey, Max," Nudge asked. "Why do you only have two classes and they're both art?"

Max looked uncomfortable for a second. "I, uhhh... I got a lot of credits done?" She said, seemingly more asking, and obviously lying. But since I was much more focused on the terrible thought that I had class with my creeper teacher, I let it slide.

The bell rang behind us, and Max, Iggy and I made our way to art.

"So, you really like art, then?" Max asked.

I nodded. "I like it I guess. It's fun."

"That's all?" Max asked.

"What else could there be?" I asked, confused to what she meant.

"It's only fun to you? For a lot of people that really appreciate art, it's more than that. Not necessarily some deep, depressing reason, but usually something more than that. Passion." Max explained. "You love doing art. Like it's an expression, not just a distraction, unless that's what you need."

"Like me and firearms and the like?" Iggy asked. "Gazzy and I love doing that stuff. It really got us close as brothers. Like were not at each others throats like we were when I was ten and he was four."

"Iggy got it." Max said. "Don't you?"

"Since when did this turn into a mush fest?" I asked, it coming out a little ruder than expected.

"Don't be a jerk." Max snapped as we walked into the familiar classroom.

"Hey Max," Iggy asked as we sat down at our usually table and put our stuff down, waiting for the teacher, Miss Pinsky. "Why do you have so many spares, and all your classes are electives?"

"Uh... I guess I'm lucky?" Max blushed, shrugging.

This obviously wasn't the truth, and not being in sweet, sensitive guy mode, and now paying attention, I wad definitely pressing the matter.

"Nah... That couldn't happen." I said, purposely torturing her.

"No... You're right. I took night school in England." Max said.

"So you graduated early then?" Iggy asked.

"No... No. I didn't."

"Then why are all your classes electives?"

"I didn't graduate already!" Max shouted defensively. Several of the students turned to look at her and she blushed.

"Don't lie." I said, now sort of annoyed.

Max looked kind of defeated and opened her mouth to say some thing when the teacher came in and clapped her hands loudly.

"Hello, class. I'm Miss Pinsky. I'm the new teacher here. Today is my first day." She was young, and casual looking, with light brown hair in a messy bun and jeans and a tee shirt. "I know some of you have already taken art this year, and everything is going to work pretty much the same as last semester, just with new projects. Those of you who have already taken this class last semester can have a free period. For those of you who haven't, please come over to this table and..."

I tuned her out and whipped out my sketchbook from last semester. While I was drawing, I asked, "So, when did you graduate?"

Max heaved a heavy sigh. "Last year."

Iggy had plugged in his music and obviously couldn't hear us, judging by the way he bobbed his head.

"So why are you on a foreign exchange, why are you at school, why didn't you tell us?"

Max looked thoughtful for a moment. "I wanted to go on one, before... Uh, I wanted to go and experience a normal place and such..." She mumbled. "And, second, I'm on a victory lap. I used to be homeschooled sometimes right, so I ended up ahead. I have to at least go to school here for a bit, but I can leave anytime, I guess. Especially when I turn eighteen in a couple weeks. And I didn't tell you because I don't know you all super well yet, because it hasn't been that long and I worried you were going to make a big deal."

"Well, I didn't make one." I pointed out.

Max smiled. "Thanks."

I continued drawing, just doodles. Pencil scratching filled our little island of a table along with occasional strains of Iggy's *terrible* music. I began to draw eyes all over my page. All eyes from good eyes that took a minute or two to cartoon eyes that took seconds. I made the eyes big and small, too, until the entire page was full. It took almost the full hour and it flew by, but I didn't mind. I was kind of proud of the eyes. Every spot on the page was filled.

As I packed up my books and Max and I prepared to leave for photography, two rooms down, Max asked me what I drew. I showed her.

"Wow. That's really, really good. And cool too." Max remarked.

"Thanks." I said. "What did you draw?"

Ma clutched her sketchbook To her chest before giving it to me. "I'm really sorry. It's bad."

I opened it up to the first page in the new sketchbook. it was a picture of me, hunched over my desk drawing intently.

"I'm sorry it's bad," Max repeated. "And sorry if you didn't want me drawing you. I just wanted work on portraits and you were really still."

I looked at it again. It was really good, the big one. There were actually a couple of sketches of me around it too. "No," I said. "It's really good."

"Thanks." Max smiled and we walked out of the hallway and waited by the door of the photography room.

Students gathered around us, and we each began talking to them until the teacher let us in.

Max and I sat down again at the table. A moment later someone sat down beside Max.

"Hey, Max.". The guy said, ignoring me.

Max didn't greet the person, and I sensed a glare, and looked up.

It was Dylan. I decided to join in on the glare festival.

"Why are you here?" I snapped.

"There were no extra seats." Dylan said cooly, leaning back in his chair.

I looked around. There were plenty of empty seats. At least six.

"There are a bunch of extra chairs." Max deadpanned.

"Do you have a problem with me sitting here?" Dylan asked.

"I guess there's no reason..." Max said at the same time I replied. "Yes."

Max and I just rolled our eyes and proceeded to ignore him for the rest of class.

"Okay," the teacher told us a few minutes later. "I'm Mr. Williams. I am obviously the photography teacher for you guys. Today will be learning the course outlines and be either figuring out the class cameras or you will be reading a packet on the basics of photography, which will be done for homework."

The Mrs. Williams talked about the course outline while I spaced out, staring in Max's general direction. She was seeming to space out too, her eyes glazing over and gazing intently at one of the fluorescent lights that was flickering on and off. I began to tap my fingers on my desk and noticed that most of the class was also dozing off their lack of sleep whilst the teacher talked. Dylan was looking at Max, but rather than glaring at him, I simply averted my eyes. I was actually very tired and would prefer not to deplete my energy looking at the likes of him.

MAX POV

A loud clapped surprised me and I looked around dazed. What-? I rubbed my wesry eyes and looked around for the source and my eyes quickly landed on Fang smirking at me. Crap! Had I fallen asleep?

I looked around at the other tables. The snorts of laughter from them told me that I had indeed fallen asleep. Blushing furiously like a fool, I sat up straighter to check if the teacher had noticed. She didn't seem to, as she was droning on about the lesson plan. I pretended to listen and tried not fall into the arms of Morpheus again.

"Hey, Max." Dylan whispered. I looked over at him.

"What?" I asked drowsily, opening my bag to take out my camera.

"Want to go out for lunch with me after this? You have lunch next, right?" He whispered, inaudibly to anyone not near him.

"No." I replied flatly.

"Great. Well go to The Pizza Place. I'll buy." Dylan told me cheekily.

"That doesn't work on me, dipwad. I'm not the kind of girl who bends to your will or will do anything you say or somehow think I have to go now that you said that." I snapped, getting annoyed at his persisting, and well, just him. "I have plans."

"What? Hanging out with Fang?" Dylan's voice sounded angry, especially when mentioning Fang.

"Maybe. Mostly just avoiding you, though."

"Fine!" Dylan snapped. The teacher looked over at him, and Dylan slouched down in his seat until the teacher began to speak again. Of course, then he came back. "I'll just ask out one of the million of girls who would love go out with me!" He replied indignantly.

I knew he was just trying to make me jealous. "And I'm not one of them."

Finally, the teacher finished talking, and I got out my camera. It was a new SLR, one of the best on the markets with a few good lenses.

"Take lots of pictures for me." My father had told me, trying to fill the fatherly role he didn't know how to.

I knew he was trying to be nice, which he was, and fatherly, but I just didn't feel happy about getting the camera, like my friend Cherry, from England, would have been. She would have been exuberant. I knew this camera and it's equipment would have been incredibly expensive -definitely over two grand, which was like a Big Mac to my dad, and it was with good intentions, but I just couldn't feel it. My dad loved me, sure, but he just didn't know how to be a father. Too occupied in his work to not be distant, and probably still not being over the death of my birth mother (he was really in love with her) left him without the capacity to be a Dad. Not just one gamete contributing to my genetic make up, but to be a real father, someone I could call Daddy.

Which is why the robotic motion hurt.


	13. Movies

**(A/N: Ahhhhh. Dear readers, I would just like to stop and thank you for reading this story. It was rushed and amateur at the beginning, but you guys stuck with me and I sincerely thank you for continuing to read this and I hope my writing has improved. On another note, sorry about my writers block. I often find hashing out a chapter or two quickly can help, but honestly, I've been so busy with exams. Thank God they are over. I think I survived, but only barely. )**

MAX POV

The next month passed by without any event. We all settled in together in a routine of school and home. Everything was nice and fine, and everything was uneventful, except for my eighteenth birthday, which passed by uneventfully, also. We all pretty much just had a nice dinner and cake, thanks to Iggy, at home and watched movies. Mom Martinez bought me a bottle of wine to celebrate the fact that I was finally drinking age and legal for everything. I also went out and and got my Canadian drivers liscence. That was about it for that time. Nothing else happened.

Er, yes everything there was quite condensed, but I've had seventeen birthdays before that, so it didn't matter. I really wanted to get that month out of the way, because now is when things begin to get interesting.

It was just the beginning of February, only a few weeks before Iggy and Fangs birthday, and I was sitting in my room that night. It was snowing outside, and the only light cane from the robust moon outside and the lamp beside me. It was a Friday night of a long weekend, and because of exams I didn't have, I didn't have school for over week. The house was silent and all other lights had been extinguished an hour and a half ago. I, myself, though was not part of the slumbering people. I was perched up on my bed, music in my ears, a book on how to survive a zombie attack resting on my drawn up knees.

I hummed along silently as the song switched from a Theory of a Deadman song to Octavius or something like that by Dream Theater. The band was great, but I didn't really want to listen to a forty minute song, so I skipped it.

The first few riffs of John Wayne Gacy Jr. -the weirdly calm song about the infamous serial killer- began to play and my fingers automatically began to move to imaginary guitar in my hands, then a moment later, my fingers changed from air guitar to air piano, and I continued to switch until the song ended.

I was somewhat cured of my insomnia after that, so I played the song again, grabbing my acoustic guitar from the closet and played the song two more times, my fingers warming up to the instrument after months without playing.

A light switched on in one of the rooms and I heard footsteps. I leaned across my bed and tried to put it down as quickly and as gently as possible, but it hit the floor a little too hard, with a thud and a twang, but it was out of view.

"Everyone else is a heavy sleeper." Fang told me.

I jumped, surprised. "I woke you up?"

"No," Fang replied, sitting down on my bed. "I couldn't sleep. What were you doing?"

"Reading."

"Thats not what it sounded like. Were you playing music?"

"No..."

"Yes you were."

"So what? They're heavy sleepers."

"So nothing." Fang smirked. "You don't need to be so defensive. I was just asking."

"Well what were YOU doing?" I asked him, sticking my tongue out.

"Updating my blog. Reading. Burying my latest victim."

"You did not!" I quiet shouted, picking up a white pillow and whacking him over the head with it.

"Hey!" Fang picked up another pillow, this one decorative and blue and fuzzy, returning the hit, this one to my shoulder.

I hopped off the bed, narrowly missing my guitar, moving it under the bed with my foot, then ran over to his head and gave him a whack. He predicted it and ducked, using my followthrough to land a gentle hit to my stomach. I stumbled back a bit and a plan of attack formed in my head as I regained balanced.

I lunged forward, purposely doing a weak swing that left me too far forward and my back exposed to knock me down. Sure enough, Fang took the opportunity to take the hit and I pitched forward, over exaggerating it and landing discreetly on my hands, a truck I learned during Martial Arts training. I hoped that he wouldn't notice, and would think I landed on my face.

Sure enough, I could feel Fang's presence beginning to lean over me. I waited one second, then kicked my feet onto his ankles and rolled to the side so he wouldn't fall on me. My kick was perfectly placed, and Fang landed on his side, right where I had been. I hopped to my feet while Fang was beginning to hoist himself off the ground and plopped myself down on his chest.

"What?" Fang asked.

"Bite pillows!" I said a little too loudly, then rapid fire hitting his face from side to side. After several hits, I jumped off him and scampered to the other side of my bed, taking shelter.

"What are you?" Fang asked. "A squirrel?"

"I'm just nimble and quick, like Jack and the candle stick." I chirped, jumping away again.

"A ballerina," Fang snorted, and I managed to trip and fall.

Fang reached down to help me up, so I grabbed his hand and let him pull me up.

"Are you okay?" Fang asked, out of standard procedure.

"Yeah. But we should probably stop pillow fighting, lest the wake up." I suggested.

"Well, I'm not tired yet. What do you want to do?" Fang asked.

"Eat. And run. I want to eat and then go jogging."

"Eating is okay, jogging isn't. Not at this time of night." Fang told me. "Not at this time of night. "

I mock pouted. "But I want to."

Fang ignored that as we tip-toped the stairs. "What do you want to eat, Max?"

"Food."

Fang rolled his eyes. "What food?"

"Good food."

"Not funny, Max." Fang said dryly. "Tell me what you want to eat before I give you snails."

"I'm cool with that. Some butter, some garlic..."

Fang made a minorly disgusted face. "Really?"

"Yup."

"Well, we don't have any. How about some extra buttery popcorn?"

"Sounds delectable." I replied In a mock British accent.

"Hey!" Fang Said, sounding a little shocked.

"What?" I asked slowly.

"You just put on a British accent. A fake one!" He accused.

"So...?" I asked wondering what Fang was getting at.

"That means you're one of us now." Fang told me as he put a popcorn bag into the microwave.

"Oh." I shrugged. "Oh well. But you know what? If were having popcorn, we should watch a movie. I'll pick one." I ran off into the living room to choose a movie.

I finally chose one that I thought would be fun, Ferris Bueller's Day Off. I personally loved eighties movies. Their fashion was so weird, and it was fun and they were from before when Hollywood started making cheap over-budget crap.

I heard Fang walking over, so I tried to put the movie in. I fiddled around with the foreign device, poking and turning buttons and dials in an attempt to turn the movie on.

"Can't figure it out?" Fang asked, and I heard the sound of him sitting on the couch behind me.

"Noooooooo..." I replied, pushing a black button which sent the large screen of the television into static. Fang looked at me, raising an eyebrow, that disappeared into his long, jet black hair. "Yes." I finally sighed.

"Well?" Fang asked, gesturing for me to continue.

"Could you help me?" I asked sweetly.

"Yes." Fang leaned forward, grabbing the remote, and pushed a few buttons. A second later we were on the main menu for the movie's DVD form. Fang looked at me, his eyes asking 'really'?

I sent him back a look that said 'you've got a problem with that?'.

Fang just shrugged and pressed play. I dug into the popcorn with Fang, which was just a little too buttery and perfectly salty, making it perfect. I leagued silently as we watched the movie together.

...

"Game over." The intergalactic puppy told me. "Your score is eight billion, five hundred thousand, ninety-eleven. Would you like to collect your prize?"

I murmured a nod and rolled over.

"Your prize is," The space hamster said, it's voice morphing into a deeper male voice. "Max?"

How was my prize me? That's not possible.

"Max?"

I looked up but I didn't see anything. And then I remembered to open my eyes. Drowsily, I looked at Fang's face, looking down at mine. "Yesh?"

"Sorry. I didn't think you were actually that deeply asleep. I was going to ask what movie you wanted to watch. But do you want to go to bed?"

I thought about it for a moment. Right here, I was very comfortable, lying against the side of Fang's chest, under his arm. I cranes my head a slight amount to she the LED light on the DVD player that read 3:05.

"Not in the least." I yawned, flattening my hair with my hand. "Play another movie."

Fang did, lifting me off him and going to the console and putting in another disc.

"What movie?" I asked, settling myself onto his shoulder again.

"Scream." He replied nonchalantly.

I stared at him. Scream? Really. I mean, I had always pegged as a horror movie guy, but still... I just wasn't a huge horror fan. They kind of always sucked. I put my hand on his leg and pushed myself off of him some so I could see him better. "Really?"

"It's not too bad." Fang shrugged.

"Can you please pick something better?" I whined.

"No. I put up with Ferris Bueller, didn't I?"

"You didn't have to though. I was asleep." I pointed out, pressing my finger tips a little bit harder into his leg as I pulled myself into a kneeling position. "Please let me pic a different movie." I pleaded. "I'll grab the snacks this time."

"You would anyways. And I want to watch this, Max, please?" Fang asked, not a hint of begging in his voice.

I pouted.

Fang looked back at me, his incredibly dark eyes even with mine. We continued staring at each other, stares not wavering and not blinking in our unspoken staring contest. We continued staring for something like 60 seconds, that felt so much longer, when my eyes began to itch, and then burn, then water, and I finally blinked involuntarily.

"Fine." I sighed, my shoulders flopping down. "We'll watch it. But you get snacks."

Fang began to get up, avoiding the coffee table on his way to the kitchen. I mindlessly watched the trailers that were on the DVD, all for crappy looking movies that came and went years ago. Fang came back, arms full of bags of candies and chips and pretzels that I didn't know we had.

"My secret stash." Fang explained, pressing play, the movie going to the opening scene, a girl on a phone. I tore open a bag of salt water taffy, happy I had found it, and munched away, shoving several pieces into my mouth until I could barely keep it closed, then settled back into my cozy place under Fang's arm.

"Don't you ever worry about getting fat?" Fang asked bluntly.

I jumped out of his arm again, taking on a defensive position, sitting cross-legged on the couch, my arms crossed over my chest. "No!" I huffed through the taffy. I have a killer metabolism." Though it cane out more as "Ahf a kwedllr metashbosim." I checked awkwardly, teeth sticking to each other until I could speak normally. "I have a killer metabolism. Don't you worry about dying a virgin?"

"No need to get snippy. I like girls who eat, unless they get super fat from it, not because they're fat, but because they aren't looking after themselves." Fang explained.

"You're digging yourself a deep grave buddy. Stop talking, like you usually do." I advised, lying down so my head rested on his leg.

This was the life.


	14. Murder has Occured

Chapter 14 of I Hate Wonder Woman

(A/N:OOOPSS GUYS SORRY SORRY SORRY! WRITERS BLOCK! AJAJSHHHBSJAK I really wanted to give you more insight into Maxs past and really wanted to add a flashback, soooo... Um... I'm going to take a break from posting...(/0.0/) for maybe six weeks or a month. During that time I will be writing, so I might only have one chapter or maybe I'll have more. I'll try. But also, I'm going to have to do shorter chapters for a while. I'm at a standstill at the moment.)

I unlatched to door of our house, panting slightly after my final sprint.

"That was a great run wasn't it?" I asked Nudge.

She nodded, panting slightly more than me. "It was great. You should really try out for track, too."

I was helping Nudge get a head start on track and field training, because tryouts were in a month, the second week in March. I was more than happy to help her train, because it had been so cold the past few weeks that I couldn't run. But this weekend was a warm one, the temperature hanging in at a toasty -2, which apparently was warm here, for this time of year.

"Thanks. I'll think about it." I grinned.

"You're a really good runner, though. I still need a lot of practice." She breathed heavily, her hands on her knees. "I mean, I'm a bit too out of breath to bother talking too much."

"Eh. You'll never know when you'll need to run." I replied, finally stepping inside. Nudge quickly shed her coat and shoes, leaving them in a pink and glue heap on the brown doorway mat. I heard the sounds of stairs pounding down to the basement seconds later and I was left alone in the foyer.

You'll never know when you'll need to run...

*Begin Flashback*

My feet pounded against the stone street, sprinting as fast as I could, my small lungs burning for air. Strands of my hair blew forward, rather than back, with the wind pushing me forward, and the hair stung my face. This was by far, the worst thing to happen to me yet. I couldn't even look behind me, just pray; I couldn't spare the chance. I just had to run, run, run. I pumped my feet faster, propelling my self as fast as my little eight year old legs could carry me. Sharp bits of rock that had chipped off from the stone roads embedded themselves into the fleshy parts of the soles of my feet. Dust flew into my eyes, causing my watering eyes to blink furiously. The roar of blood pumping in my ears removed the distant sounds of whatever I left behind, my labored breathing, and my pursuers. Even worse, my vision was quickly diminishing. I knew I needed to stop soon or I would end up fainting, and what use was that?

My only hope was to reach a good, thick part of the rainforest to hide in and wait out the Men, because I had already left the small city in Belize. By a long ways too, as the pavement had given way to rocks twenty minutes prior. All my hope was in hiding. I was hopelessly lost and had no way to call for help, and there was probably no one besides the obvious for miles. I was barely able to make out the tall, lush green of a forest ahead, maybe a minute away. Could I make it? My throat burned, my feet were bleeding, everything ached, and my lungs could barely bring in enough raspy breaths to keep my brain functioning. Everything was in fuzzy overload. The area behind my eyes began to pulse, and I could feel the field of my vision slowly pulling inwards. The forest was only a little bit away...

Then, oomph!, I was on the ground, my teeth embedded on the inside of my bottom lip. My legs were sprawled put behind my, my left ankle throbbing painfully. No... No! I could gear the Men drawing nearer! Going against every natural human instinct, I pushed my small body off the ground and started to run again, ignoring the blood rapidly filling my mouth, my ankle already becoming stiff, with the sensation of my green overall leg being stretched tighter and my knees feeling sticky. My fall had provided my body with barely, just barely, enough of a break to pull one strong breath into my lungs and to burst into the thick green foliage. I didn't give any thought to the spiders or any of the other icky things lurking, not even to the snakes with the deadly venom. If I was caught, dying of an excruciating snake bite would be so much more pleasurable than what would come if I was caught. Much.

I could hear clearer now, but could also feel the pain so much more, salty tears stinging my scraped cheeks. I didn't hear the Men in the forest yet, so I took that as a good sign, and let myself slow down a bit, limp-jogging deeper in, weaving myself through, in all directions. Though I was only eight and I couldn't run as fast as the big Men, I had the stamina and endurance more than that of many adults.

Through the twilight-dim light that streamed in through the leaves, I found a suitable tree, and proceeded to clamber up its tall trunk. Half way up, I heard the strains of their deep voices, probably still a distance away, and shimmied up even faster. My intuition had been right, this tree, though it didn't look it, was actually much taller than all the others, extending stron branches up higher than the rainforest canopy. As soon as I got up a good sixty feet up, I relaxed my guard the slightest bit. I had been warned about the Men before, how they may try to steal me for ransom, but they didn't seem all that intelligent. That's what grandpa had said. Or at least his secretary, Nana, had.

I looked down, the main fusion of rich green leaves a good twenty feet below me. I wasn't afraid though, I had always been comfortable with heights. The sunlight shocked my eyes, even though I had only been in the dark forest five or ten minutes.

I wrapped my little arms around the trunk as best I could, and tried to asses the damage.

I had almost peirced my lip with the fall, the wound was almost as thick as my lip and the width of my one front baby tooth. I was lucky the other had fallen out, otherwise I would have had a gaping hole in my face. My hands looked fine, just a few cuts and scrapes, as did my legs. All fine. My ankle on the other hand, did not. Already, It was swollen as large and purple as an bruised avocado, the angle of my foot grotesque. I had to look away, as it, combined with all the blood I had swallowed, the pain, and the exertion was making me nauseous. Eventually, it was too much, and I retched over the branch of the tree. My stomach was empty, and all that came out was a pinky, sour stream of bloody stomach acid. I retched again, a few times, but my bloody vomit quickly gave in to dry heaves, then Nothing. I wiped my mouth on my hand, and found myself only then realizing the oppressive, humid heat that was suffocating me as the last traces of ice cold adrenaline dissipated.

My breath caught up to me almost, and I stayed up clutching the tree until long after the sun had died, and the stars had been born, splayed against the inky sky, a sight that I was too far out of it to appreciate.

...

I never remembered how long I was up in the tree, or how I got home, but the next thing I remember was drinking tea with Nana, her telling me not to pick at my scabs.

*end of Flashback*

I was jolted out of my reverie by a distinct presence in front of me.

"Are you going to take off your coat anytime soon, or were you planning on staying by the door another ten minutes?" Fang asked.

I blushed, embarrassed at my spacing out. "S-Sorry. I'll be right down." I stuttered.

"I'll wait." Fang shrugged, leaning against the wall and picking at a cellophane red heart Mom had put up for Valentines Day, a few days away. I pulled off my coat and shoes and put them away, placing the coat on a hook and the shoes in a cubbyhole.

"Okay." I said, and Fang shed himself off the wall, falling in pace with me as I walked toward the basement. "So valentines day is a few days away, and then your and Iggy's birthday is just a week after..."

"Extraterrestrial Culture Day."

"What?" I asked as Fang and I entered the basement, and making our way to the back room, which had dark brown walls and sofas and beanbags and a bar fridge and a pool table and a flatscreen tv and was the quintessential rec room.

"Valentines day is not observed my me. On that day, I celebrate Extraterrestrial culture day... Because you know, we need to be aware when they visit." Fang explained.

Fang and I plopped down on a beanbag chair together, watching Gazzy get pwned by Angel in Call of Duty.

"Why is an eight year old even playing MW2 anyways?" Gazzy whined.

"I think Valentines day is cute..." I told Fang. "Sickening, but cute."

"Got a valentine?" Iggy asked, poking his head out from a cupboard, a bag of chips in hand.

"No." I said, as he say down beside us, on a yellow smiley-face beanbag chair. "Of course not."

"Want to be my valentine?" Iggy asked jestingly, going down over dramatically on one knee in front of me.

"Well, by golly!" I laughed, playing along, putting one hand out and taking his lightly. "I better ask poppa first, but I shore would like to!"

The video game was paused, and everyone one was cracking up at our old-fashioned scene except for Fang, but that was expected.

"Darndy!" Gazzy cried, throwing his hands up. "I was going to ask her, the fairest maiden on this side of the train tracks, I'll reckon."

"And I was going to ask you, Sir Gasman!" Nudge moaned theatrically. "Oh, what a tizzy! Whatever will we do?"

"Well, we cant have hurting! I do say, we should have a competition for who gets who!" I suggested.

"Call Of Duty!" Iggy shouted, jumping onto the couch.

"Thank God I'm not playing." I sighed. "I'm terrible at that game. I am the worst at video games ever. Everytime I try to kill someone, I get killed. And then I get un killed and then I die again."

Gazzy snorted. "Un-killed?"

...

...

"Arg!" I cried, exasperated. "I can't do this, give up on me!"

"No!" Iggy shouted back at me. "Once you start, you can't stop! Don't you know the horrible things that will happen if you don't stop? All the trouble we face? We promised." Iggy shoved the handle of the knife back into my hands, and I took it, afraid not to.

"But I can't do this!" I whined desperately, my face heating up with frustration. I hung my head down, and small tendrils of brown hair hung into my vision. "I can't." I repeated quieter.

"You can." Iggy insisted intensely. "Do it, Max. Finish the job."

Cold flooded through my veins. I looked down at the knife in my hands. It was sharp and large, perfect for my job, perfect for slicing through flesh, some of it possibly mine.

I couldn't do this. The thing I was about to... About to dismember, about to hack up, it had once been alive. A living thing with a heartbeat and feelings.

"What if I cut myself? I'm going to hell for this!" I protested. Iggy ignored me.

"Max," Fang said, walking in. "It's a frigging chicken. Stop being so melodramatic."

"But..."

"Shut. Up." Fang warned. He took a step towards me and crossed his arms. "Or I will stab you."

I heaved a sigh in defeat. I had no interest in learning to cook. As far as I was concerned, I would be fine getting take out forever.

Iggy was teaching me how to cook a "basic" meal for the family, Chicken and rice and vegetables, but it seemed like an insurmountable task to me. "How do I do it?" I finally asked, noting that Fang had disappeared without me noticing.

"It's really easy, all I'm asking to do it cut the chicken breast in half by slitting them down the middle, like a fillet of fish. I don't see why you're making such a big deal."

"I'm cooking illiterate." I explained. "Show me how, please."

Iggy pried the knife from my hand and deftly and perfectly cut the chicken. When he finished he gave me the knife, gently placing it in my hand. "Okay. I demonstrated. Now you try."

"Okay." I sighed, tightening my grip on the knife and adjusting my hand until it was comfortable. Iffy turned on the sink and began to wash his hands as I slowly lowered the knife to then foul fowl.

Okay.

I can do this.

I put the knife down, and slid it through the flesh, just as Iggy had done. It was a little less perfect, but he, Rome wasn't built in a day.

I quickly finished slicing up the 6 chicken breasts and followed what Iggy, did, putting the knife in the sink and washing my hands. "Okay." I said putting my hands on my hips. "I'm done. Now what?"

"We make the sauce for the chicken, so we can bake them." Iggy explained. "It's a mustard sauce, so well need garlic, Dijon mustard, white wine, maple syrup, salt Rosemary and thyme, along with a touch of powdered chicken bouillon."

"Whattt?" I asked, dazed. "That's a lot!" Iggy looked at me, so I went around the kitchen, gathering the ingredients and placing them on the counter.

"Okay" Iggy said. "Now we're owing to put them together, drizzle it over the chicken and then bake it."

Iggy explained all the amount of what to put in the sauce, and ten minutes later, the chicken was in the oven baking.

"Now the rice and veggies ,right?" I asked.

"Right."

I grinned. This wasn't as bad as I had thought. With guidance, I could actually manage to put together a basic meal that would, knock on wood, taste half decent.

Whew.


End file.
